I breathed a deep sigh of blissful relief as I entered the room which would be mine for three days and two nights.
It was such a simple yet beautiful room, with large floor to ceiling windows along the length of the room, lush greenery outside, and the trilling of birds. I found the sunlight shining through the large leaves unspeakably gorgeous.
It was time to rest, read and reflect. It was as if my parched soul was drinking deeply from an oasis in this urban desert.
I shelved the books I brought with me, and lay down to take a nap as cool air wafted peacefully over me.
I had one journal to write in, thoughts and song lyrics. And another small unlined journal to sketch in, the view from my room, the view of my room.
There was so much quiet time to sing in and to pray in, as I held the wooden cross snugly in my hand, a reminder of the costly sacrifice paid for my sins.
I read and journaled reflections, wrote down quotable quotes, and allowed the deep truths of God to sink in once again, in unhurried silence, undisturbed peace.
How busy our everyday lives are, with responsibilities to fulfil, appointments to get to, meetings to contribute in, people to listen to, that such unfettered time and space becomes a rarity.
The San Damiano Franciscan Centre was such a welcoming sanctuary. The hospitality of the friars was so warm and generous. They literally shared their bread (and peanut butter) as retreatants were told we could help ourselves to breakfast food at the pantry and in the fridge.
They were friendly and respectful of the space we needed, and retreatants can donate a very reasonable suggested amount for each night stayed. (Contact them at the email address on this page to enquire.)
I was particularly struck by this painting, and gazed upon it at length as I had breakfast. It evoked so much pathos.
Was that a lock, chaining the older boy to the flight of stairs? The flimsy cardboard piece cushioning the brothers (?) against the cold hard cement steps. So much pain and suffering in their gaunt bodies, yet a picture of brotherly love and mutual comfort as they doze, protected by each other. This is no imaginary scene, for it is all too common in Thai cities and I’m sure in other developing countries too. Indeed Lord there is so much want and injustice in this world, come Lord Jesus! Maranatha.
There were good reminders and apt verses around the centre too.
God-willing, I would like to return there each year for these much needed days of being literally set apart.
Another fantastic aspect of the San Damiano Franciscan Centre is its proximity to Bukit Batok Nature Park, which is literally 5 minutes walk away, across the main road.
Every morning, I would go for a nature walk.
And have all the time in the world to gaze at my favourite bird species, hopping around with its friends.
The warm morning sun illuminating a row of tree trunks – there was something so comforting and other-worldly and soothing about that to me.
I stopped to ponder the beauty of fungi, sustained by a fallen tree trunk, decaying inside yet full of life outside, decked in luminous, glorious, mossy green.
Whilst there are many significant differences between Catholicism and Reformed Protestant Christianity, I am still deeply grateful for the Friars for maintaining this retreat centre and so kindly opening it to all.
There is a prayer labyrinth on the top floor, and I was able to spend a few quiet moments winding around it as a prayed in silent contemplation.
Finally, it was time to go. I departed refreshed and ready to live and serve again, a wick sustained by the life-giving, rich candlewax of the Lord’s Word, to do His Work, wherever He places me.
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