My Hiding Place

When you were little, did you ever have a place you would hide when you were upset or angry with your parents? I did. At my old house, there weren't many places you could get away. The tree house was a pretty good place, but they never had any trouble finding me there and making me come down. And so I found refuge at the back of my closet. There I would sit on top of all the spare blankets and pillows, surrounded by familiar old stuffed animals. When I felt sorry for myself I would climb behind all our best Sunday dresses and sit there and cry - in later years, pray - until all the frustrated emotion was gone. I laugh about it now. There's no way they didn't hear me since my closet was just opposite the living room wall. But for whatever reason they never pursued me there. To this day I have that space memorized, from the flower and lace pattern of my winter dress, to the uneven texture on the walls.

I can't believe I'm admitting this, but I retreated there until I was almost 15. Even when we moved I cleared out the space behind old prom dresses and huddled into the narrow corner. But I soon ran out of room to put things, so I was ousted from my closet, finally. One day in wandering to the end of the street Jordan and I found some 4 wheeler trails in the woods near our house. You have to cross a dug out canal to get to it, and it's there that all the drains from the neighborhood empty out of a 4 foot steel culvert. So my new "hiding place" was found. When you stand on the small patch of broken concrete at the bottom of the culvert you're just low enough to not be able to see the street or the houses, and when there's water running out of it you can't hear the traffic anymore. My favorite time to go is on a rainy afternoon with my bible and journal. I'm not one of those people who can shut out the noise of the world with ease. I'm too easily distracted by familiar surroundings, even when I'm by myself. I have to get away to truly get alone. There are times when I'm only able to spend a few minutes there, and others when I spend hours sitting and listening to the sound of the frogs and crickets. I've had some of the best times of prayer and worship sitting on the culvert or standing on the concrete while the water runs between my toes. (picture of my "place" taken with my phone - sorry for the poor quality!)

I guess you may not really see it as a true "hiding place" since there's no real hiding involved. My family knows when they can't find me they should look there. But I don't see it as a literal place to hide anymore. Just a place where somehow I can escape without having to go too far. I retreated there last night just as the moon was beginning to emerge. Mrs. Sharons favorite song was going through my head :

You're calling me to lay aside the worries of my day

To quiet down my busy mind and find a hiding place

I know that He is my strong tower, my hiding place, but it's nice to know that I have a real hiding place to retreat to when I need it.

PS: A blueberry farm at dusk isn't a bad place to retreat either.. You might try that sometime. It makes it even better when the blueberries are only $1 per pound.. hehe