Meeting with God in a Quiet Place

Finding space in which to reflect and pray is a Biblical principle. Again and again in the gospels, we see Jesus walking away from the crowds to find a quiet place

to pray and to restore Himself.

I know this. I’ve been a Christian over half my life. I’m aware that taking time for oneself is vitally important.

I’m just not very good at it.

In my forties, I loved going to Sizewell Hall, a “thin place” on the Suffolk coast for our church weekends away. With three children to look after and lots of activities, you couldn’t call it a retreat, exactly, but I could see what people meant when they spoke about finding God in a place, or resting with Him.

I’m not very good at resting either.

Fast forward to today, where I now have the privilege of acting as the Editor of MOSAIC magazine and working with the incredible people at Rural Ministries. RM run regular Rural Hubs all over the country and I can now, finally, say that I have learned the benefit of retreating.

For me, attending an RM retreat hub is both instructional and revelatory. Yes, I’m there armed with a notebook and pen to meet people, to chat, to find stories for future editions. But I’m also there as someone who needs to get away, to reflect and to spend time on a guided retreat with God.

In May this year, I headed to Launde Abbey in Leicestershire for an RM hub. It had been a busy year and I knew that I would benefit from spending time on a guided retreat run by Sam, our Director for the East of England.

Leaving the A14 behind, I found myself driving through chocolate box villages with thatched cottages and stone walls. The sun was shining, the sky blue, nature resplendent in all its glory. It was easy to thank God as I drew nearer to Launde and I felt a sense of anticipation as my satnav told me I had almost reached my destination.

As my car rattled over the cattle grid at the entrance, the road dropped down into a valley so green that any self-respecting writer would struggle not to be inspired. It was dotted with wild flowers and sheep grazed peacefully on the sloping grass.

Originally a twelfth-century priory built by Augustinian Canons, the retreat house offered hospitality to pilgrims for four hundred years. Like so many others, it fell victim to Henry VIII’s rapacity for money and property and he handed it to Thomas Cromwell in 1539. His son lived there modestly, keeping his head down politically and dying safely in his bed. From the midseventeenth- century to 1957, it was a private estate owned by a succession of wealthy families. Cecil and Lilian Rawlins Coleman returned Launde to the church when they gifted it, along with its four hundred and fifty acres of woodland and land, to the Diocese of Leicester so that they could use it as a retreat house and conference centre.

As I walked into my bedroom with its views of the lawn and the woodland and fields beyond, I felt completely at peace. Dusk fell as I gazed out of my window until the owls began hooting and the stars started to twinkle and it was time for bed.

Next morning, the sunshine-coloured napkins, light oak furniture and friendly staff in the breakfast room welcomed me. Any guest who wants a silent retreat wears a special lanyard and there was a sense of peace as we all helped ourself to breakfast, without any of the chitchat you normally get over the muesli and the Full English.

Our morning was guided by Sam and I loved every minute. My phone was turned to silent and I was able to focus on the here and now, to really listen out for the Lord’s voice and to calm the busyness in my mind.

As a writer, every time I visit somewhere new, I see it as walking into a room full of stories, and this was no exception. I finally got to meet two amazing ladies who I had interviewed for MOSAIC, along with the other hub guests who were delightful. We enjoyed lunch together then had a couple of hours of free time.

I love chatting to other people, but on this particular day, I knew that I was meant to walk in the grounds by myself and to listen out for God. The weather was glorious, blue skies with fluffy white clouds, warm sunshine and the grass and trees a shouting emerald green. I found the Quiet Garden and having walked around it and admired all the wild planting, I sank on to a bench and closed my eyes.

The Augustinian Canons who once lived here would have seen much the same view and heard much the same sounds. Birdsong was everywhere, the heady scent of blossom and flowers in the air and with no cars or planes, I could have been in any century. Who knows how long I sat there, my face raised to the sun, but I heard His voice and saw a picture of a jug of living water, sparkling and shining as no earthly water ever could.

That vision has sustained me since I came back from Launde. I don’t know what it means or how it will play out, but I do know that I was enormously blessed by the retreat. What a privilege it is to spend time with other people of faith in a thin place, seeking the Lord’s voice.

Ruth Leigh

Consultant Editor, Rural Ministries

First published in MOSAIC Issue 20, September - December 2026