ROOM 666 - Day 1, first entry

Dear diary,
So here I am, ready for my spiritual weekend.
I am sitting in my room in Hotel xxxxx in Xxxxx (sorry, but privacy is part of the deal), where I will spend the next 48 hours, more or less.
Providing for eight full hours of sleep, I will spend my waking hours alternating three main activities:
. Prayer
. Reading the Good Book
. Meditation

I don’t plan to leave my room. I will have simple meals served here, and I’ll try and reduce any form of contact with the external world to the minimum. Isolation and solitude are part of the experience I want to live, to strengthen my faith and to forge my resolve.
And truth to be told, already the Lord is putting my resolve to the test: when I landed early this afternoon, I was informed that my luggage has been lost. Or misplaced. Or something.
The gentleman at the airport was extremely kind. Apparently, due to an excess load on my flight, my single suitcase was loaded on a different flight, also directed to Xxxx. But now my suitcase is nowhere to be found.
I had to spend half an hour compiling a form, describing the contents of my bag: sweatshirts and comfy slippers, spare underwear and tube socks, my toilet things, toothbrush, comb, a large towel, my selection of inspirational reads.
Then he got down my name and the hotel where I am staying. The man there said it happens sometimes, and they are sure they will have my things delivered before night.
So here I am, with just what was in my carry on bag. But I checked the bed stand drawer, and there is a copy of the Gideons’ Bible, so I’ll be able to start my spiritual exercises while I wait for my luggage.
But little did I imagine that my trials, dear diary, were just beginning!

Because when I got to my hotel, I found out there had been a mix-up in my registration - and in fact, there was no room booked for me. Which turned out to be quite a problem, as there is some kind of convention in town, and therefore there is no room to be found, by hook or crook.
And I admit I was about to give in to anger.
But thankfully,  in the end the manager was very sorry, because he admitted it was all their mistake, and therefore got on the phone, and made a few calls, and found a place for me.
And actually in a better hotel! And they will be paying for the difference!
Which goes to show that Perseverance in Faith and Trust in Divine Providence are always a sure way out of such tangles.
So here I am, in Hotel xxxxx, in a very large, and almost sinfully de luxe apartment. The view from the window is beautiful, as I can gaze upon the whole city. It’s raining, and the lights are coming up as the sun sets. I can see the blinking neon signs of theaters and restaurants.
I have a double bed that’s not as soft as I feared, and has this incredible mirror hanging over it on the ceiling. There is a huge flat TV set, and a refrigerator unit with two bottles of water (and a lot of other things, but I’m going to ignore those alcoholic drinks and those foreign-looking treats). And the carpeting is soft and caressing.

The en-suite bathroom is large and filled with light. There is no bathtub, which is a pity, but there is this big glass closet that is actually a walk-in shower, and a big selection of soaps and perfumed oils. There’s bathrobes and towels, which means I’ll be able to take a shower and was away the fatigue of the journey before I set down with the Good Book and start this long weekend.
It is now five pm on Friday the 13th.
I’ll go and take that shower.