On Retreat...and home again

I forgot just how much time I used to spend on retreats.  In high school, I led 4 retreats a year and then had 2 or 3 more planning retreats for those other weekends.  That didn't include any other mission trips or events.  When I led my first group we were ALWAYS away on ski trips, beach trips, retreats, you name it!

As you well know, children slow things down a bit and it is hard to leave them.  And when I was a solo pastor, I felt that it would be hard to go on retreat because then there would still be the regular responsibilities to tend to in addition to planning a retreat. 

Well, the women's ministry at Oxford Pres goes on an annual retreat at a catholic convent in Reading.  I was hesitant to go because I didn't want to be away that long, but after some talking I ended up volunteering to lead some bible studies. 

What I found was more amazing than I imagined.  I really missed retreats. 

I missed being away, secluded, in nature with God.
I missed being silly and sweet and sincere.
I missed crying happy tears at other people's stories.
I missed contemplative walks and talks. 

I led the Bible Study on the book of Ruth -- a woman who was left empty and alone but remained faithful and how God redeemed her from her anguish.  It was a powerful weekend for so many of the women there as we wrote letters to our past selves, present selves, future selves, and love letters to our God.  It felt so amazing to pour out my soul through the pen and paper. 

And the crazyness of retreats!  The first night our door was taped shut, our light switches taped, our shower taped.  We passed the trick on to others.  We hid each others shoes and taped toilet seats down, we moved furniture in front of doors and had pillow fights.  We stayed up until the wee hours of the night sharing our journeys. 

I even took a 4 hour nap.

I was giddy by the time we were done.  I was skipping through the halls and hugging people tight.  It was exactly what I needed.

Of course, I went to pick up Noah from my mom's house and we stopped for lunch.  About 3/4 of the way home he began to cry in pain and vomit all over himself and the car.  So I spent my first minutes home bathing a pukey child and cleaning digested french fries out of the upholstery!  Welcome back to reality, Stephanie!!!

It was worth it, puke and all.  And this morning in worship, one of the women said to me, "you know, we could do a fall retreat too, are you interested?"