SPIRITUAL RETREAT THOUGHTS PART 1
JUNE 2004

      This past April I was visiting a small religious bookstore, in search of music by John Michael Talbot and/or Michael Card.  One reason for my interest was a song I am writing, in a style somewhat similar to theirs.  I admire their ability to create a holy atmosphere in their music and lyrics, a quality I find lacking in most of today's Christian music, and which I certainly want to foster in my own creative efforts.
I selected a John Michael Talbot CD of his greatest hits.  At the counter the clerk asked me if I was aware that he and Michael Card were each doing retreats this summer in Arkansas.  She gave me a brochure which I pondered for the next few weeks.  There were several different themed weekends to choose from and all were at a hermitage retreat center run by monks and nuns.  Having already been seeking semi-isolation for spiritual purposes, this concept was immediately appealing and the toughest part was determining which weekend to choose.  I finally decided on the one led by Michael Card, called Christ and the Creative Spirit.  I've read his book on the same subject, an excellent tome on why expressing ourselves through our creativity is a form of worship; a desire to give back to our creator.
A phone call to the center answered some of my questions.  A gentle voiced woman named Sister Carolyn -- identifying herself as a celibate sister -- verified that all meals and lodging were provided and that I would be sharing a room with anywhere from one to three other men, depending on the popularity of the retreat.   This was a little disappointing as I had already envisioned a humble monastic cell where I could ponder all things in solitary silence at the end of the day.  Indeed silence was to be a part of the retreat experience, from 10PM until breakfast each morning.  In the context of our conversation I mentioned my guitar and Sister Carolyn encouraged me to bring it. 

Mapquest said it was a 6 1/4 hour drive to Berryville, Arkansas.  On the Friday of my departure I tried to leave a couple of hours earlier than necessary (registration was from 6 to 7 that evening, with a concert to follow by both Michael Card and John Michael Talbot; two for the price of one!) but there was always one more little detail to be dealt with and the morning sped by amazingly fast.  When I got in the car at noon and retraced my morning I never could figure out where the time went, because five hours had disappeared like that.  I felt a sense of peace, however, since I was well prepared in every other respect, complete with semi-healthy snacks for the road, enough comfortable clothes for my five days away (including new pajama pants chosen with my unknown roommates in mind), books to read and my afore-mentioned guitar.  I also had recorded a simple instrumental version of the new song I was working on so I could sing along and refine the lyrics during the long drive.
After an hour on the road it happily dawned on me that I could use my cellphone and catch up on some socializing.  I called Chris and left a message.  I then called Ron and we had a nice long chat about music and computers, until the signal began to break up (Arkansas is mountainous and coverage is seriously lacking).  A little while later the signal returned and Chris called me back.  We had a highly enjoyable conversation that encouraged me from the standpoint that he is spending time reading his Bible, attending Christian concerts and pondering his purpose in life.  He told me one story in particular about how every time his rock band's lead singer uses the Lord's name in vain technical problems suddenly erupt on stage.  I especially liked that story because my new song is called "The Name of the Lord".
Refreshed by good conversation and a beautiful sky to guide the way my spirits were high, but this was not to last.  By the time I got to Little Rock and saw the traffic backed up from construction I knew my window of opportunity to arrive on time was closing in.  After enduring nearly an hour of standstill traffic things finally began to move again, only because it was 5:30 and the construction workers were going home.   Assorted detours had already caused me problems and eaten up more time and my frustration was mounting.
When 6:45 rolled around with at least an hour still to go I tried to call the center to make sure they knew I was coming but there was no signal.  My coverage finally returned right at 7:00 and I called the center, which didn't pick up.  I then called the only other contact number I had, the cellphone of the director, Mark.  A sharp contract to the gentility of Sister Carolyn, Mark sounded flustered and slightly put-out as he explained that they were preparing to leave that very minute for the concert, which was twenty minutes from the retreat center.  He confirmed that I was driving up from Little Rock but just as he started to give me directions to the concert so I could meet them there, the phone died again.  Calling him back, this happened two more times but in our final aborted conversation he told me to drive past Berryville to the very next town and find the First Assembly of God.  That I could do.  I would be late but at least I could hook up with them in mid-concert.
I know I'm going into great detail but bear with me.  The long and winding road finally saw me in Berryville around 8:15 and I continued on to the next town, Eureka Springs.  I asked a Mapco cashier where First Assembly of God was and she was happy to give me the easy directions.  I felt much better as I headed there, knowing I was merely 10 more minutes away from hearing these fine musicians.  When I got to First Assembly of God, however, I saw only a church bus and three cars in the parking lot.  I went inside to find some kind of Spanish prayer meeting going on.  I spotted a woman about to drive off and ran out to ask her if she knew anything about a concert there tonight.  She went back inside to ask someone, only to inform me that the concert was at First Assembly of God on the other side of Berryville (which I had come through many miles earlier).
Driving back to Berryville, I felt very frustrated, angry and defeated.  I threw my hands up and said, "God, why are you letting this happen?"  Here I was, seeking to align myself with Him in a holy setting only to be thwarted at literally every turn.  I prayed that He would not let all of these mishaps be in vain, but rather let there be some good reason for it.
At exactly 9:00 I walked into the right church, found a great seat and would enjoy over an hour of excellent music.  Michael Card was just beginning his set and I was amazed at what a virtuoso he is on the guitar.  (I would later learn that he plays upside down, strings and all, being left-handed and having learned on a right-handed guitar.)  Everything he played was new to me and the lyrics of his songs were deep and beautiful.  Later he moved to the piano and John Michael came back out to join him for a few familiar numbers on his guitar.  The concert was so satisfying I didn't feel like I missed anything.  They announced that they would be doing autographs for those who could hang around, and I did regret knowing that our troupe was to convoy back to the retreat center immediately afterwards. 
















      When the concert ended I met up with Mark the director, who still seemed flustered but I soon ascertained that this was his mode of operation.  Though maintaining his testy tone he also harbored a playful spirit and the two managed to balance each other like the funny and sad masks of the theatre.  Over the next few days his endearing bravado would be a regular source of amusement.
My apprehension returned as he flipped through pages of registrations to give me details of who I would be staying with (or even if I had a place to stay, having arrived so late).  He explained that I was originally to be sharing a room with another gentleman named Rick, but since seven of the fifty registrants didn't show up at all we could each have our own rooms at a nearby hotel, as the rooms were already paid for.   He gave me directions to the hotel and it wouldn't be necessary to come to the retreat center until 7:00 the next morning.  Hooray!  I had my own room plus I could stay for autographs!  At that moment I realized that everything had indeed worked out in my favor and that there had been a good reason why I was so late.



                       











All of Michael and John's CDs and books were on sale in the lobby (they are prolific writers so there were a bunch) and I wanted to procure a couple of autographed items for myself and as gifts (one of them for Chris, who expressed an interest in the retreat and would have come had circumstances allowed).  After standing in the autograph line I approached John Michael Talbot with a book to sign and said Hi.  He looked up at me and seemed suddenly surprised, as if he knew my face, which of course he wouldn't.  He greeted me with unexpected familiarity and kindness, and it was never clear to me why.  I just know that it made for a wonderful moment and further set an optomistic stage for the unknown adventure to come. 





     



     
      

John Michael Talbot, in his ever-present brown robe (he is Franciscan)
Michael_Card_-_Grace
Michael_Card_-_Grace
Michael Card.

Here's a sample of a really nice song, "Grace Be With You All"

John_Michael_Talbot_-_In the Beginning
John_Michael_Talbot_-_In the Beginning