The darkness of this past
winter delayed me from writing of its highlight. (At least that sounds like a good excuse, doesn’t it?)
But, in reflection,
perhaps the darkness only served to make this particular experience stand out
more vividly against the dreary backdrop. Light in the darkness seems a more
brilliant illumination.
Seasons Weekend at the Broadmoor Hotel in Colorado Springs stands out like a bright beacon of
hope and inspiration.
Seasons
is the brainchild of best-selling author and dramatist Nicole Johnson. The
weekend is an artistic spiritual
retreat designed for personal growth and replenishment. Intentionally intimate,
it is a feast of music, art, drama, and learning for those wishing to go deeper
in their faith journeys. It is a special time of rest and renewal…peace and
healing…awakening and illumination.
Katherine and Jay were
honored to be among the speakers. (We kept pinching ourselves and saying Why are we here? Too good to be true.)
But that’s the way the Good
News seems isn’t it?
Too good to be true… but it is!
In additional to the wildly
creative and talented Nicole, other participants included renown psychiatrist
Dr. Curt Thompson, author of The Anatomy of the Soul, and the
brilliantly gifted Sara Groves, one of my long-time favorite singer/songwriters. (Our whole family is in love
with her.)
The other speakers and
performers were equally amazing. It was intense. At one point, as Sara sang and
played the piano, tears came to my eyes. I’ve been listening to her music for
years, since I first heard her song Conversations
on the radio. She holds a unique place among Christian artists, with her
soulful melodies and way-deep-beneath-the-surface lyrics. And here she was, in
the flesh, pouring out her beautiful, pure notes just for us in the room.
The whole weekend was like
that. The intimacy of the group made it feel like a personal banquet for each
participant. That was one of the main points.
I’ve attended many large
Christian conferences, such as Women of
Faith and Living Proof Live with
Beth Moore, with thousands of participants. They have all been wonderful,
enriching, faith-building experiences. There is an electric energy in these
large gatherings of believers from all walks of life. Nicole performed with Women of Faith for years, but
eventually she was drawn to the idea of a smaller, more personal retreat. Thus
was Seasons Weekend born.
At first, the menu seemed a
little random. Actors? A psychiatrist? Musicians? And my child and her husband?
What’s the common thread here?
They were all there to share their stories with us.
It was beautiful to see the
way God wove it all together… perfectly.
Every story was totally
unique, yet analogous. Pain. Defeat.
Redemption. Victory… through the One who defeated death.
In an elective session,
Curt Thompson discussed the power of story.
Obviously, I love stories.
I have always loved them,
since earliest memory. As a child, I forced my parents to tell me story after
story every night until I finally fell asleep.
I love listening to other
people’s stories, and I often feel compelled to tell mine. I believe it was C.S.
Lewis who said that we share our stories in order to know we’re not alone. I
concur.
But Curt took it further,
from a neurobiological perspective.
He told us that our
stories begin generations before we are born. They are first told by someone
else. (Do I actually remember being in a horse stampede when I was two, or do I
just remember the story of what
happened so vividly that it seems like reality?)
Curt said that we come out of the womb
looking for someone who is looking for us. We scream as we leave the dark, warm
comfort of out mother’s bodies; we are consoled in her arms. We begin telling
stories because we have a need to be
heard and to be found.
Our stories are told in
fits and starts. For the most part, they are messy. Moments of triumph are
mingled with slips and slides and falls. Paths are wide and winding, not
straight and narrow. Sometimes none of it makes any sense. But we are most
creative when we are most messy…and vice versa. Life, according to Dr. Thompson, is about being creative with our messes.
Because of the messiness
of our stories, tentacles of shame are wrapped all around them. The physical
effects of shame turn us inward and away from other people.
But we must be heard in order to be found.
We cannot tell our stories
as individuals. Our story-telling is collaborative. The listener actually
becomes a part of the narrative. This creates new neural pathways in the brain.
Every time the story is retold, the teller’s mind is renewed. And the
listener’s mind is changed… expanded… in some way.
I need someone else’s
brain to complete my story.
Serendipitously, the more
we tell our stories, the more they are redeemed.
Given back to us in a more complete way. Even a seemingly tragic story may be
used for great good.
Sara Groves shared a very
personal experience with the group. Her openness touched my heart and moved me
to compassion. I entered into her story and responded to it.
After she finished
speaking, Curt announced, “In listening to Sara’s story, we have been changed.
Now our brains are actually different!”
“Redemption,” he said, “is
never individual.”
I ponder that statement.
Two of the nuances of the
verb “redeem” are
1. to
recover possession or ownership of by
payment of a price or service; regain.
2. free, liberate, rescue, save.
The act of telling our
stories is freeing to us and to those who listen to them. Confession is
healing. By liberating even our shameful secrets from the dungeons of our
minds, they come out into the light and are redeemed. In the sharing, they are
purified and lose their power to control.
We regain rightful
possession of our true stories when we share them. Even the messy ones.
Especially the messy ones.
I thank you all for being
a part of my story. It is a privilege.
I hope I am a part of
yours, as well.
Keep telling it.
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A few scenes from Seasons...
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(Babysitters fell through, so look who got to come!) |
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We took turns babysitting. |
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This is most of the incredible Seasons team. (Minus Sara)
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(I am so mad. First I left the camera in Cali; now I've left the cord in GA, so I can't download the best pictures from the weekend. Maybe later.)
But enough of winter!
It's a time of new life and fresh beginnings. It's not too late to sign up for the Spring Weekend in Washington, D.C., April 12-14.
It's a wonderful gift you can give yourself. You are worth it.
Tomorrow it's Easter Service at the Hollywood Bowl!
Praying you have a joyful celebration of the Resurrection, wherever you are.
He is making all things new! Hallejuah!
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(Granny can't figure out how to embed.)