My friend wrote about driving past a certain side road on his way home from the beach. A powerful feeling emerged. That particular road held strong emotional history for him. Still, he went on his way. What kept him from turning down that memory-laden lane?

The Beatles wrote about relationship with “places.”

“There are places I remember all my life, though some have changed.

Some forever not for better; some have gone, and some remain.

All these places have their moments, of lovers and friends I still can recall.

Some are dead and some are living. In my life I loved them all.”

It’s natural to associate memories with exact spots of real estate, but more importantly, God can speak through place.

The golden days of my childhood are largely contained in a place called Crayhaven—a cluster of cabins by the deep blue waters of the French River, in the northern woods of Ontario. Much of my early spiritual history happened in those scenes—whether swimming off the dock, or venturing into the stillness of mossy-carpeted woods, or warming my legs in front of a crackling fire.

My grandfather built the first cabin in 1938, and my grandmother christened it by writing a short poem called, “The Crayhaven Creed”…

            Here is a place to rest, a time for relaxation.

            Here Nature’s at her best, releasing you from frustration.

            Here’s a place for laughter, a place where friend meets friend.

            Discord must not enter, nor wills be made to bend.

            Here God’s love surrounds us. Let’s listen to His will.

            Not always in loud voices, but by sometimes being still.

With gentle words, she urged me to listen for God—and her invitation took. Over the years, I whispered many things to God in that place. And He whispered back.Continue reading