I went on a personal, spiritual retreat this past weekend for my life’s sake.

I had to back out of some engagements in order to get away, but it was entirely necessary…a matter of self-maintenance and self-preservation for a day and a half.  Not everyone understood, but that’s ok.  This is my journey; I simply did what my soul said I needed to do.

I went to my favorite place in Stoneville, North Carolina called St. Francis Prayer Center.  If you’ve never been, let me personally recommend it, and tell ’em Giselle sent you!

It is a place of serenity.  It is a place of refuge and rest.  It is a place for prayer, worship and renewal.  It is a place that reminds me of the mountains of Brevard, North Carolina, where I spent holidays and summer vacations with my grandparents growing up as a child, and the visits would continue throughout and until my early 30s when they both went home to be with the Lord, six months apart from each other. That atmosphere was so much a part of me that for many years after their passing (and that’s going on about 15 years or more now), I craved the mountains but rarely had opportunity to go visit.

What I have realized is that I need that environment to give my life balance…to give me peace.  Without it, there is a noticeable difference.  I’ve been out of balance for a while now.  I even remember writing about being out of kilter a few weeks ago, and it finally dawned on me why.  And what happens is like what my mother told me to study years ago:  the Law of Attraction causes the universe, through positive thinking and affirmation, to align itself with my spirit to open up opportunities to do those things that nourish the soul.  The opportunity opened itself up to me this past weekend because I saw my life spiraling out of control with SO MUCH going on all at once.  The thing is that I had to be bold enough and to take my own welfare seriously enough to jump on it when it was time to go.  It didn’t take me long to consider it.

So I gave myself permission.

Anyway, when mom introduced St. Francis to me, little did I know then that it would become my respite away from home.  I’ve been to workshops out there and have conducted my own workshop for a group of college students, but mostly I have gone there for personal sanctuary, for spiritual/writing retreats. For my birthday in August of 2015, mom and dad gifted me with a 4-day, 3-night stay out there in one of their new facilities called Hermitages.  They are standalone apartments literally out in the woods.  There is no wifi, no television or radio, and there are signs everywhere that say “Silence” or “No talking beyond this point.”  It’s wonderful.

And this is how you know when you’re in spiritual alignment on your journey…if you’re paying attention, you will see clearly the signs of His abiding presence and He will confirm in different ways that He sees, hears and knows all about us.  God is in control; all we need to do is just surrender and rest in His care.

And this is how I know Mom’s spirit is not far from me and that she and the Lord orchestrated this weekend for me.

At dinner on Friday evening, two ladies, who were also on personal spiritual retreats as well, invited me to sit at their table.  The older of the two was in the midst of introducing herself to the other lady and by her eye contact and gestures toward me, she involved me in her conversation.  I found out that she was a psychologist by trade and had gone to UNCG for her graduate studies.  I told her that I too pursued my graduate studies there.  Then she said that in her retirement now, she was doing retreats and workshops on enneagrams and spiritual practices, etc., and I said, “Wow…that’s interesting because my mother was trained and conducted workshops on some of the same topics you’ve mentioned.”  Hmm, I was thinking to myself.

Well, when I said that about mom and had somewhat intimated that I knew many of the things she was talking about, both of them became interested in me and wanted to know what I did…who I was, and so on.  I started sharing, and little bit by little bit the connections between the three of us grew stronger.  We all attended women’s colleges for our undergraduate studies and all three of us have worked (or are working) in higher ed.  Then one of the Fathers came over to our table, brought us more tilapia, and sat down to join in on our conversation.  He shared that he had been facilitating a life-changing 24-week social justice course at the Prayer Center and talked about a few of the riveting texts that were a part of the curriculum.

I’m not exactly sure what I said as I was commenting on the texts he mentioned and had even made a few suggestions of books from mom’s library and my own, but whatever it was I said fell on her like a ton of bricks.  Ms. Marilyn, the psychologist, just kind of out of the blue asked, “Is Lillie Jones your mother?”  I replied (kind of stunned), “Yes, ma’am.  Lillie Jones is my mother.”  She smiled but then shifted to a somber mood and said, “Oh, my goodness.  Do you know that when I heard your mother passed, I wept for days.”  She continued by noting that she couldn’t make it to the homegoing service for mom, but she had heard it was magnificent and honorable.

Then what she said next would make the hair on my arms stand on end.  She said that she had attended one of mom’s spiritual practices workshops years ago.  She said that mom was an excellent facilitator, but not only that, she said that during the workshop mom spoke directly to her (sort of singling her out) and said that she noticed leadership qualities in her and she should consider getting trained and leading workshops such as the one mom was running.  Mom had told her that getting trained in these practices would even enhance her professional career with her counseling practice.  Ms. Marilyn (as I would eventually learn her name) said that no one had ever encouraged her the way mom did.  Additionally, during the time of the workshop, she was going through a divorce (that mom didn’t know about), but that encouragement emboldened her to push beyond her comfort zone and to press to be who God was calling her to be.  Her spiritual life, from that point, went through the roof.  She told me that my mother had no idea the impact she made on her life.

After that weekend, my mother would keep an eye on her making sure that she acquired all of the training she needed.  From that time to now, she has been conducting workshops all over the place.  As a matter of fact, she said that mom must have found out about one of her workshops at St. Francis because she just showed up and attended it in support of her.  She was so thankful for my mother and attributed this career of hers post-retirement to my mom.

She was one of Lillie’s blooms.

The other lady at the table ended up being connected to me also on a deeper level.  When she said that she was a career counselor at a community college in Asheville, I remarked that my mother grew up near there in a little city called Brevard.  She said, “I live there now.”  Said she grew up there.

I wept right there at the table, and so did they for me.  Sweet, sweet tears.

To some, these things may seem insignificant.  For me, it was evidence of a sweet spirit bringing me in connection with those whom she also groomed.  The air was clean and crisp, opening up my sinuses and allowing me to breathe in God’s beautiful nature.  It rained and got chilly, but the silence allowed me to hear myself think and to commune with the Lord in a way that nourished me back to some balance.

I will be attending Ms. Marilyn’s enneagram workshop in a few months, and Courtney, the other precious soul at the dinner table, told me I could visit her anytime.

In love and charity,

Giselle