About 2 miles off the road and hidden against the mountain is a sanctuary. I first drove onto the grounds of this sanctuary when I was 16, newly licensed and needing to find a job. The circles I ran in brought word of an opening in the King James Dining Room at Glen Eyrie, a local castle serving as a retreat and conference center and owned by The Navigator's. I suppose I filled out an application, perhaps had an interview, I'm sure appropriate tax forms were filled out. I remember none of that. I only remember the early mornings and late nights driving the winding roads to the castle, exiting the hustle and bustle of Colorado Springs and entering the stillness, silence, and calm of Glen Eyrie. I adored it. Even though I was coming to work I felt like I was entering into a peaceful place. The reality is, I was. Glen Eyrie is magic. The further off of 31st Street you get and the closer the castle appears the more its magic weaves itself into the air you breathe.
I worked in the King James Dining Room for approximately 2 1/2 years. In that time I served countless groups of people breakfast, lunch, dinner. I got to participate in serving at the Madrigal Dinner the Castle hosts each year at Christmas time. It was the perfect first job. My favorite times to be on the winding dark roads of Glen Eyrie were in the early mornings. I would turn off my radio as I went through the front gate and I would let the silence and magic of The Glen seep into my car and my being. I didn't really recognize it then as I do now, but it was as if my soul was taking a deep breath.
Throughout the years since I have been fortunate enough to visit The Glen on and off, mostly for day retreats and once for a place of retreat as depression weighed on my heart. Years ago as God was leading me through some necessary closure in my life, I stole on to the grounds and sat beneath a large tree in the expanse of grass and found the closure I needed to move forward. Sometimes you don't realize how important a place is until you almost lose it.
In the summer of 2012 the Waldo Canyon fire ate its way through some of our closer mountains, took a local landmark, The Flying W Ranch, and destroyed a large portion of a neighborhood that sat against the mountain the fire jumped to. Anxiously watching the fire inch closer and closer to Glen Eyrie, they finally had to evacuate and pray. There was nothing more to be done. Fire teams were doing all they could to beat the fire into submission but it had a mind of its own and where it went they just had to follow and try to contain. When all was said and done, Glen Eyrie was safe. Just barely. If you look up at the ridge right above the castle you see scorched trees and a clear line where the fire ceased burning down the mountain. Glen Eyrie had been spared. As a community we breathed a sigh of relief. We had already lost the Flying W and to the lose The Glen in addition to that plus all the homes felt like too much. It already was too much for our shocked and soot covered hearts.
A month ago my hub whisked me away for a surprise weekend. I was told to pack comfy and casual, that's all I knew. I was so intrigued, where could we be going? And then he turned off of 31st Street and began to wind his way toward the front gate of The Glen. Oh my. My heart stilled, I grabbed his hand. "Really? We are staying here this weekend?" Really, we were. What a true gift. I'm not sure he knew how important this place was to my heart. It was a sanctuary for me. We stepped out of the car at the Carriage House to check in. And the magic of The Glen was already working on me. The silence and calm of it was the first thing to hit my senses as we exited the car. I felt my soul take a deep breath.
It was a glorious weekend. The weather was the last perfect weather we were going to have for quite some time, my hub and I needed this time alone after some rough years of marriage and parenting and so the company was fantastic, the cabin room he reserved for us was in one of the more special cabins on the property and was an amazing retreat space for us. The front porch of the cabin has these huge wooden swings and we spent time, silently holding hands and rocking, on that porch. After breakfast the first morning we were debating where to walk and how to spend our day. Walking out the front door of the castle my eye caught a stand of sorts. Curious I walked to it and saw that The Glen had created a prayer walk through its grounds and this was one of the stops. The weather
was incredible, I was reluctant to be indoors. We had eaten a great breakfast but needed to walk it off and we had no plans at all for the day. So the hub and I walked the grounds of The Glen according to the prayer walk and spent time communing with one another and with God. We took our time, enjoying the weather, the grounds, the peace of The Glen, the prayer with each other and with the Lord. I saw the magic of The Glen begin to work on my hub and it led to good and important conversation. We began to feel a sense of ease that we hadn't felt in quite some time. After many hours of the amazing weather and prayer time around the property we took a nap and knew we would need to leave that evening for a brief time to get some dinner. I was reluctant to leave, even for just an hour or two. My soul was enjoying the peace and the quiet and I was feeling hesitant about reentering into the hustle of life. I had reconnected that day with my sanctuary and wanted to take full advantage of our time there.
Throughout the day I kept looking up at the ridge where the fire threatened to roll down the mountain and consume such a special place. I couldn't help but feel emotional, realizing how close I and so many others came to losing such a magical place. I also kept thinking of the
middle ages custom of claiming "sanctuary" from legal action and from enemies. The church back then would honor the person and assist them in making restitution or in escaping from a danger on their life. I thought about how these days the church is no longer the sanctuary it should be. People come for help, healing, and hope and instead are shunned, judged, and left open to more injury. No longer can we really enter a structure that calls itself a church or house of God and claim sanctuary. God alone, in his presence, is the only place that we can claim sanctuary and know that we will receive it. The Glen was my sanctuary. The Glen is my sanctuary. It is where I feel the deepest connection to God, most likely because of the magic of it. Peace, calm, silence, and serenity blanket me from the moment I turn off of 31st Street.
When we finally left Glen Eyrie that weekend to head for home I was refreshed in my spirit, hopeful that my hub was as well, but not ready for the noise of life which I knew would assault our senses as we turned on to 31st Street. I prepared by reminding myself that the place I claim sanctuary is always a short car drive away and I can always be in the presence of God and his peace because he lives in me. Later that night we were at home, our redheads were chattering, the television was on, and my hub turned to me and said, "Can we go back?"
