Journey to Heaven

6-15-9 Blowing Rock, North Carolina

Our day began innocuously enough. We gathered at 8 AM and hopped on the Interstate to flee the heat and humidity of June in the Deep South. Actually our motive was a little more substantial in that our intention was to visit several old Carpenter Gothic churches in the lush emerald mountains of North Carolina where world renown art can be found. However, that secondary motive of coolness did become significant when the temperature was already 83 degrees at 9:30 AM and humidity was hovering near 100%.

Breakfast was had by our little band of explorers in Boiling Springs at an old McDonalds, still clad in vintage red and white. The first glimmer of something special to come this day occurred when I was offered a free breakfast of sausage, egg, and biscuit. One of our travelers was attuned to some kind of free promotion, of which I became beneficiary. I hadn’t thought myself hungry, but the glorious aroma became absolutely compelling. I wolfed it down with delight.

Four and a half hours into our journey brought us through fresh rain-moistened high altitude cove forest to a quaint little church in Glendale Springs, just south of the Virginia line on the Blue Ridge Parkway. Having been in this little church countless times, it was not new to me but what happened in there today was truly spectacular. While my fellow travelers were roaming about gawking at the grand art and taking pictures I was having a numinous appointment with God through one of his agents.

Nine years ago in a dark night of the soul I spent a month in this cozy mountain valley and participated in the life and work of the congregation that cares for these small Gothic churches. I lived at a Benedictine retreat some twelve miles away. As sometimes happens, the things we value most get dropped and broken, perhaps beyond repair. A profoundly important relationship with the director of that retreat was severely damaged and my inability to repair it for the past nine years has been a source of great angst. Today I was given opportunity to do something about its repair, posthumously.

While wandering in the church wondering about the currents of life we get caught in, a woman came into the church. She seemed familiar, as if I should know her. I felt compelled to speak to her. It turns out I had never met her in this life but apparently God had ordained it long ago that I should meet her now. Immediate intense conversation with her made it clear that I was having one of those profound moments we can only wish to have all the time. God was speaking and providing the opportunity to make an amend and repair something long thought lost and beyond salvage. Jane and her husband Greg turn out to be the new spiritual directors of the retreat that I once valued more than life itself. I was being given a new link to this important place in my life. I had heard through a thread on Facebook that the long-time director had just passed away two weeks ago. Jane confirmed this and our encounter today resulted in an incredible opportunity for restoration to begin. Jane was completely open to my returning to the retreat at some time for some spiritual work on restoring the rift that has been so bothersome for so many years. We parted with the understanding I would call her at the retreat in the following week.

We left Holy Trinity Church in Glendale Springs, I in a near state of elation and expectation, wondering what God is about to do. My fellow travelers were wondering what just happened. Maslow’s lower level needs asserted themselves and the group was clamoring for a lunch stop. A short field survey of West Jefferson landed us in a small immaculately clean Cuban restaurant called Papi’s Grill. The owner, Maria, is perhaps one of the most gracious hospitable people I have ever encountered. The whole group was agreed that she was special and our very fine meals were well spiced with her warm hospitality. Right up front she declared that she wanted to buy me lunch. She truly admitted us into the interior of her life. We were friends to her, not just patrons of her little eatery in a converted car dealership office. This day was turning into a relational odyssey, far beyond just a little mountain junket to look at pretty art work. God was doing something else here. It remains to be seen what this will be about.

I agreed to send Maria a piece of clay art from Russia to add to the collection of happy little houses on the wall of her dining room. I have been collecting a lot of hugs and endearments from the most unlikely places today. Again, something really good is up. I just need to pay attention.

We finally tore ourselves away from Maria and her larder and went the short distance to the cozy St. Mary’s Church. While the others were busy seeing the place for the first time, I was able to carefully do a new photo survey of the entirety of the building including all the frescoes and stained glass windows. This will greatly improve a lecture I give on these churches. I was overjoyed to see that the building has just been fully repaired and re-conditioned. It was looking rather neglected several years ago.

The group proved open to my attempting to locate the retreat that had once been so important to me as we had no other major plan for the late afternoon. My memory of nine years ago suggested the retreat was only five miles or so from the route I had planned for our journey to Blowing Rock. With the consent of the others, I was, along with the help of a stranger walking along the road, able to find the gravel road to Road’s End and at its end I was able to see God begin His repair work. One again I saw Jane and met her husband Greg for the first time. Her elation that I had sought out this place immediately was balm to my soul. The next two hours confirmed that God is doing something very important. We are not sure what it is but we are sure that God has started something.

It is my plan to return here to the end of the road after I return from Russia. God works in very mysterious ways. Events came to pass, such that I now find myself in possession of a portion of the former’s director ashes and will take them with me to Russia and leave them there. There was once a very important link between St. Petersburg and our spiritual tradition here.

When I arose this morning I could not have ever conceived that I would find myself at Road’s End, find it in perfect repair, with ongoing benevolent leadership. I never expected to see a possibility for repair of a once precious connection to this little piece of Paradise. As has been well said, “We get God’s best when we let Him do the choosing.” I also learned “it is not about me” and that life and the affairs of the universe do not require my management skills.

We left paradise at sunset and headed back into a beautiful world, suddenly more alive with numinous possibilities. We found Blowing Rock to be a truly magical place. It is a place that exudes serenity and aesthetic grace. Abundant floral displays and landscape lighting made one feel as if to be taking a stroll through a Thomas Kincaide painting. The little knotty pine motel exceeded my expectations by far and the innkeepers are delightful. I some how know that I am going to sleep better here than I have in a while. Dinner at the Social Circle Grill was scrumptious. The sweet ending to our day came at Kilwins, a fine chocolateur and purveyor of decadent ice creams. Life is rich.