Glad to be home, even though the retreat was a wonderful change. I had a chance to reconnect with several women from my home parish. I miss those parishioners, even though I am glad I am at my little church.
First, I have to say I don’t know what is wrong with my generation. At the last several retreats I have attended, I have been the only person in my age group. I am always old enough to be everybody’s mother. Luckily, the group never seems to mind, AND I often get special treatment (which I accept, gratefully).
This retreat was no different. There were 15 of us, and the next oldest was the same age as my daughter. I enjoy being around these younger women. Many still have children in public school, from elementary to high school, and some have college kids, and a couple are even grandmas. But they are all are faithful women, glad to be on retreat.
We were in a comfortable lodge at the YMCA camp on our beautiful FROZEN lake. The gathering space was very comfortable; it included a wood stove that added to the cozy, friendly feeling. Upstairs were the bunkrooms. I grabbed a bed in the counselor’s room, and was joined by one of my Tuesday Morning Prayer friends.
Big bathrooms downstairs with showers, small restrooms were located right outside the bunkrooms for those of us who have to visit one during the night. This floor was comfortably heated with a furnace.
The kitchen could have been better appointed, but after all, this is not camping season. But we managed. We brought food, lots of snacks, and beverages. And paper plates. Oh, and wine.
The big draw this time was our favorite massage therapist, who is the sister of the church major domo (enhanced secretary). For a little extra money, one could have a ½ hour massage. Ahh! Perfecto!
Last night the temperature was near zero, but during the day today, with the sun, it warmed up to the twenties. This lured the hale hearty out to cross-country ski on the frozen lake. I enjoyed watching them. I can’t seem to get away from my fear of falling. The latter developed big time after my disasterous fall in Mexico a couple years ago.
The lady priest from my home church had brought lots of craft things to do. We painted little wooden “treasure boxes”, decorated them, and filled them with various things. I actually made a pair of earrings for myself! Plus Anglican Prayer Beads.
We had two services during the retreat. There was something special about praying and praising in front of the cheery warmth of the wood stove. Conversations ranged from questions about faith to stories of our most embarrassing moments in church (most hilarious), to current struggles with children. For the latter, I just listened and enjoyed the common sense of these good Moms.
I had a great time, but I was glad to get home. I’m not that happy about being away from home at bedtime. I remembered getting up in the middle of the night in seminary, and leaving for home, instead of waiting until morning. I just have trouble sleeping without my companion of 55 years.
Life is Good, when one can get away. Life is better when one gets home again! Thanks be to God.
January 30, 2010, 7:17 p.m. Saturday. Clear, cold.
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