Many caves in Thailand turn into Buddhist shrines, and this was no exception. Inside the cave there was a large reclining Buddha and several smaller Buddha images to which people were sticking pieces of gold leaf purchased from a monk seated nearby.
Since all the merit we might ever need was already paid for by Jesus, we did not spend a lot of time in the cave. We quickly left for the sunny, hot exterior. When we got outside, I noticed some stairs going up the mountain. Double temptation--a mountain to climb and a path I've never been on before.
We weren't to the top yet when we saw a broken-down sign about a cave. We veered off the trail a few steps and found some more stairs, only these were going down into a cave.
I'm an introvert, and my introvert tendencies are not near the middle of the scale. (As the saying goes, one's company, two is a crowd), I also have a slight propensity towards claustrophobia. These two natures clash when I find a cave. Down the stairs we went.
If I had grown up in Thailand, I would probably ended up as a monk living in a cave, spending my days thinking and writing. As a child, my need for other humans was like my desire for a steaming cup of coffee on one of Fresno's hottest days. And when I was around fellow humans, my interactions did not always end on a positive note. This would cause me to further retreat from humanity in what became an endless cycle.
But I'm thankful that Jesus burst into my life like beams of sunshine piercing through the musty, guano-scented darkness of this cave we were in. The great love of Jesus displayed through His people brought new life to the deadened parts of my soul.
Upon discovering such a great love, I became aware that some things in my life needed to change. As Jesus was a light shining into my life, I now discovered that we were supposed to bring that same light to people living in darkness. Jesus said, "In that same way, let your light shine before people, so that they can see your good deeds and give honor to your Father in heaven." (Matthew 5:16 NET)
And here I am, forty-four years later, living in a country and culture that bears little resemblance to what I grew up with, trying to let the love of Jesus shine through my life to those around me. And in the midst of this trying to figure out how going to a meeting with a bunch of other people can somehow have the word "retreat" in its title. I'm an introvert who spends a lot of time working with people. If I am going to retreat it will be to a place where the beaches are empty and the view from the mountain tops are uncluttered by structures made by mankind.
As I wander through the cave, God reminds me that we are no longer people of the darkness. We are people of the light who bring light to those who still live in the cave.
At the retreat, we sang a song about being adopted into God's family. Paul writes, "God decided in advance to adopt us into his own family by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ." (Ephesians 1:5, NLT) It's like being adopted out of a bad foster-family. So I find myself crying a lot. Crying for the young people I've met whose parents love them, but don't treat them so nice when they get drunk, which is far too often. I cry for others whose parents don't really want them around. I cry for the many thousands whose parents left them to go work elsewhere, leaving them with grandparents who aren't really sure what to do with them. I weep for those children whose first sexual encounter is at far too young an age with a relative or friend of their parent. My cheeks are dampened because of the young women who, missing love from a father they never knew, chase the first promise of "love" from a man only to find themselves pregnant and abandoned by the one who said he loved her. All around I see smiles worn as a mask to cover the hurt and pain lurking beneath.
I'm grateful to have been brought up with a human family where there was love. I'm even more grateful to be adopted into a bigger family of those who love God and one another and want to be a blessing to those around them.
God, give me grace and strength to go back up the stairs out of the cave.
