Three days of Heaven Part 2

This continues the story of my weekend in the Poconos at Wayne Monbleau's Let's Talk About Jesus Fall Retreat; I had left the story at Saturday night, having found a single room available to get some desperately needed sleep to be ready for tomorrow's events and the drive home.

In the morning I woke up early enough to have some time to walk on the premises; though the sky was overcast and gray, there was that kind of subdued pastel atmosphere to the natural surroundings; a kind of sweet melancholy that felt peaceful yet somewhat somber. Some patches of snow still remained on the ground that gave a distinctly un-Octoberlike appearance to the landscape. My spirit was at peace even though my mind was pondering the things I was witnessing, not just in the meetings but in my encounters with other believers; here I was in a large group of Christians for the first time in years, and I was finding it a little awkward to adjust. I had no idea how hungry I was for this kind of fellowship until I got here. But like a starving man at a banquet table, I didn’t quite know where to start. But I trusted my God to lead me in His way and allow me to receive what He had for me here.

I brought my camcorder to the breakfast to get at least some record of the believers that I met here, but I only really half-heartedly made the effort. I wanted to keep on receiving what God was showing me with no distractions such as a camcorder whatsoever. Next time I might make more videos, but this was really, for the most part, not the time or place for it.

The Sunday meeting was yet one more awesome time of worship and praise to God, and words from Wayne pertaining to the Bread and the Water of Life. It ended wonderfully with communion, and then, all too soon, it was all over. Afterwards I met some people I had not met before, including one young African-American sister who just radiated a blinding light of Christ in a way I have never witnessed before, and who spoke encouraging words from the Lord to me, having never met me in her life. There was one more big lunch buffet, in which I met an interesting young sister from Madagascar and a divorced brother whose relationship struggles were somewhat similar to my own. Much good conversation in the Lord followed, and then….it was really over. With my luggage packed already that morning, I wandered the halls of the hotel for a bit and said some last goodbyes, feeling the emotion I had come to know as “post-conference blues” already beginning to set in. The drive back was somber, as I pondered again all the things I had learned there in God, still trying to process it all.

That Sunday evening the blues I spoke of became more intense, probably due to the fact that this was such an intense event spiritually, and that, unlike many conferences and retreats before, I was returning to an empty apartment with just me. I had some wonderful conversations with a couple people in my church Sunday evening which were a help in dispelling these blues. Yet I did know that, somehow, in a way I could not yet fathom, and still cannot, that this gathering of saints had set in motion things of the Lord which were now inevitable and which had waited a long time to come about. God is moving, as He always is. The wilderness might endure for yet some time longer, but the Promised Land is always at its end. I know that this will not be the last time I attend this event; I will, once more with no agendas of my own coming in but an expectation of the love of Jesus Christ, be back.