There have been a few “defining moments” in my life. Moments that with their immediacy and completely distilled messsage speak loud and clear, shaping my life in a unique fashion. A couple of profound moments that altered my direction and outlook on life immediately come to mind: That moment on the Yellow Breeches in Grantham, PA gazing into a beautiful young woman’s blue eyes, right then I knew in my bones that I would marry L (and I did - and we took wedding pictures near that spot). A winter morning driving along route 28 between Midland and Catlett, VA when it became clear that doing the work of God was killing God’s work in me, and that I must walk away from full-time vocational ministry. A night in my bed when I realized my father’s voice would never hit my ears on earth again. Defining moments.

Some are joyous. Some are tragic. Each quietly causing a seismic shift in that inner part of you.

I was at Resurrection Center in Woodstock, IL back in August of 2005. It was on a summer afternoon when I made my way across the conference centers grounds. I was walking determined on reaching my goal. I had heard there was a hermitage on the property and I wanted to see it. I got a bit turned around and made some wrong turns, but my persistence won over my midguided steps and I found it; and the key to make entry.

After nebbing around the one room building I settled down in a wooden rocker and gazed out the large picture window. The space between this world and the next began to close in. In that little room in the middle of the woods in the middle of North America - I heard again the voice of my Maker. One word. Two syllables that shook my being. Five letters that embraced me with deep felt approval and acceptance. In that moment (or moments?) - few things could compete with my focus and alertness to an often forgotten term.

I haven’t and hope to never forget that short time in that little room.

I was reminded there that I am dear to my Maker. I found new purpose and new desire to continue on taking steps with and toward my Master. I found dignity and meaning in who I was. I “saw” this world and my place in it focused for a second.

A defining moment - defined by a two-syllable, five letter word, whispered by a still, small voice.

Abide.

At that instant - I most deeply wanted to abide. And it has made all the difference.

“Freedom is not whether we can do whatever we want, but whether we can do what we most deeply want.”

(I found that quote in that little room in the woods in Woodstock, IL - I don’t know who first said it.)