September 10, 2026
Be merciful to me, O God; be merciful to me, for in you my soul takes refuge; in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge, until the destroying storms pass by. ~ Psalm 57:1 NRSV
The wild goose is a Celtic symbol for the Holy Spirit:
free, loyal, and untamable. It is also the name of an outdoor progressive Christian festival for Spirit, Justice, Music and Art. Everyone is welcome, really.
I am part of a cohort of Spiritual Directors who volunteer their time to provide free 45-minute sessions for anyone. This year was my 7th time as a Spiritual Director. Each Goose has been an incredible opportunity to sit with diverse individuals and couples, enjoy time with colleagues, and soak in the Spirit’s presence.
This year was wild. Literally. High temperatures and humidity called for finding a shady place with occasional breezes to sit. My last meeting Saturday was at 1 pm with a woman a few years older than me. Ten minutes into our session, I noticed the sky behind her getting dark. What started as a slight breeze grew into 60-70 m.p.h. exploded through the campground.
There was no time to stop and pray, and yet it seemed like the next minutes were prayer on the go. I made sure the person I’d been with was headed toward her camper about 25 feet away. Then I tried to grab the camp chairs we’d been sitting on, but it was impossible to corral them. I hustled up the path to the main part of the venue as chairs, signs, tents, poles, and branches rushed past. The image of wind and debris blowing past Dorothy and Toto popped into my head. Rain began to pour in sheets, lightening and thunder were too close for comfort.
I did a quick assessment of what location would be safest to shelter in. The two wooden buildings were very old, and surrounded by trees. The portable toilets began to look possible, but I was afraid they would blow over with me trapped inside. I headed as fast as I could to the old arena, with a heavy metal roof, and partly built into a hillside. I got there safely, headed to the lowest place at the back where I spied a cinder block wall holding up the roof.
There was one more thing to do. I texted Rod who was at home, just in case this was the end. These were my words:
“Very scary storm. Please pray. I’m under the big building where the glampers stay. Standing as close to the concrete wall to the rear. It’s the safest shelter. I love you and our family. Stay put. I’ll let you know when I’m safe.”
I was terrified, as much or more than I’ve ever felt.
We sheltered in place for about an hour, while the storm roared around us. Emergency vehicles arrive, fearful that the campground was a mass casualty location.
As the storm abated I looked for my colleagues in the arena, as well as several of the people I sat with for spiritual direction, two who had significant mobility challenges. We are safe! We got word that there were no serious injuries, just some cuts and bruises, and were released to leave.
The campground was a mess. A number of pop-up tents and every canopy were destroyed. Five of the large rental tents were cordoned off with orange police tape, including the Spiritual Direction tent. Trees were downed, portable toilets were blown over, several campers and tents and two cars were crushed beneath trees that blew over.
We worked together to salvage most of the spiritual direction items and pack them for transportation. Then we headed home.
No major injuries. We’d all found refuge until the destroying storm passed by.
Thank you, Crazy Wild Goose.
Anne
Wayfinding 