I first went to Camp Allen in 1975, as a camper. During that summer camp session, each cabin went into the woods to find "our place," which we marked off with string tied around trees. Then, within "our space," each camper found a small square of ground that was "my space." We would go to "our space/my space" every day during camp to pray and watch the trees sway in the breeze by the lake.
To this day, Camp Allen is still "my place." At Camp Allen, in 1980, I had a spiritual experience at the old white cross (that is no longer there), when I somehow knew that my grandfather had died. At Camp Allen, I met my wife in 1987. Both of our sons have been campers at Camp Allen; Scott has been a counselor, as well. In 1999, by the lake, I believe that God called me to the priesthood. Now, I love to direct camp sessions for a new generation of campers, as each kid finds their place at Camp Allen.
Tomorrow, after my meeting, I will hike out to the lake, to pray and find a place, a place that is "my place" for that one afternoon, a place where I can listen for God's still, small voice.
I hope that you, too, will seek and find a place to listen for that Voice, a place that is "my place" for you.