I had received a generous invitation from Glen Eyrie Castle and the Conference Center to stay at no expense in the biggest and nicest room at their Christian retreat center nestled in the foothills near picturesque Pike’s Peak. The property, a castle built by a civil war general for his wife, established the city of Colorado Springs in the late 19th century.

I’d been told the location was beautiful, but it was dark when we arrived—and upon proceeding through the gate, I began to feel a bit apprehensive. The road was winding with no streetlights and only a few small, dark cottages sprinkled here and there. It seemed like the scene just before something crazy happens in a scary movie.

Arriving after 10 pm, only one light was on in the house with one visible
figure sitting at a desk near a front window. On the large, ornate wooden
door complete with heavy metal knocker was taped a note with “Valorie”
scribbled on the outside and a key inside. It instructed me how to get to my
room inside this bed-and-breakfast style cottage.

Past the front foyer was a long, stately dining room with a fi replace and
seating for 14 people. Next was a vast living area with paintings of people
I imagined were long gone. The lighting was nearly non-existent, and my mind just raced: Where am I? Who else is in this house? Are the former
inhabitants still ‘with us’? I knew I was being silly, but the questions were gaining speed.

My room was a spacious, pink bedroom with a long hall entryway, an antique canopy bed, living area, work area, and a huge bathroom. There were a dozen 10-feet tall windows around the room, but beyond them was only darkness. Frankly, I wasn’t feeling excited about staying. Just then, I heard a motherly voice call out, “Val-orie?” I turned to find a lovely, older
couple—the home’s hosts—enter the room.

The husband, perhaps sensing a little tension by the way I was scoping out
the room, said lightly, “Don’t worry. There are no ghosts here. It just looks like this because you came at night.”

A little embarrassed, I said, “Oh, I’m sure it’s lovely in the daytime,” hoping I was right. The host’s wife proceeded to tell me a few things about the room and the house. She said something about an unconventional wake-up call around 5:30 a.m., but I thought she was kidding.

Still uneasy, but undeterred, I readied for bed and decided that my apprehension was unfounded—though I must admit I left the hallway light on for good measure.

Around 5:20 a.m., I was suddenly awakened by the sound of a woman laughing—actually, it was more like a giggle. Little, choppy bursts of laughter. The first time I heard it, I thought it was a bit strange but I was able to drift off to sleep again briefly. The second time, I thought, “Wow, something must really be funny.” I tried to go back to sleep, but she
wouldn’t stop her giggles.

What could be that funny this early in the morning? I thought, a bit annoyed.

Then it occurred to me, the hostess warned me the night before that I would
get a wake-up call around 5:30 in the morning.

I jumped out of bed and looked outside, only to see huge, wild, black
turkeys shuffling about on the lawn. In the background was a spectacular
mountain view, and I could see the edges of a large, stone castle peeking from behind the tall, evergreen trees on the property. The scene from the 12
expansive windows in my room was captivating. I took a deep breath of
gratitude and inhaled the divine beauty of nature. Then I laughed at myself
for my scaredy-cat reaction the night before.

During my three days at Glen Eyrie, I took walks, meditated, and enjoyed the scenic landscape and peaceful environment that surrounded me. I gleaned a simple lesson from my experience: Sometimes you have to persevere through the uncertainty of darkness to experience the beauty when light is shed on a situation. Things aren’t always as they seem, especially when we have a limited view.

In what area(s) of your life are you apprehensive because you can’t see
what’s coming? Are you ready to bail out quickly before you can see the
whole picture?