The past few posts have been about church because as I get this old blog caught up, church is where we have been spending a significant amount of time. Something huge happened for me and to me the first weekend in June, I attended my first retreat, ever.
I am not one to venture away from home alone. I attended cheerleading camp in high school and I guess that was okay but I didn’t love it. I didn’t do many sleep overs at friends and I don’t do mom’s vacations. I can count on one hand the number of times I have slept alone in my house and I have only left my family once when I went to New York with my mother, sister and cousin ages ago. So when this retreat, Fair Warrior, was announced, I was intrigued and I stuck the save the date card on my wall and I thought about going but I was not that committed to the idea. When the details were released and I realized a retreat is not like a resort and single housing was not available, I promptly threw away the save the date card. No way, no how, was I sharing a bedroom, sleeping on a top bunk and sharing a bathroom with women I did not know.
Greg pushed me to go. He told me to go talk to the woman at the registration desk in church, ask questions, and take a leap of faith. He assured me he and the girls would be just fine without me for two days. I took this leap of faith and registered but told him I would drive myself up. He laughed at me and because he knows me so well, he realized this was my escape plan. Have car, can leave. A few days before the retreat one of the women I do know, a mom of Grace’s friend, called me to ask for a ride. Bam! Escape route blocked. God chuckled and I fretted. But I said yes and we drove up and had a lovely dinner in Brattleboro, VT before checking into Camp Spofford on Spofford Lake in New Hampshire where I did indeed get the top bunk in a dorm style room I shared with my new friend and two other women. The funny part is we were all set in another room we thought we were assigned to but had to move all of our belongings at 10pm Friday night when we realized our mistake. After setting up again, I called home to say goodnight and wasn’t that surprised when the wave of homesickness washed over me and I just wanted to jump in my car and drive myself home. Home to my girls. Home to Greg and my bed. Home to where I was comfortable. Home to where I was content. But I did not. I pushed through and went inside, said goodnight to my bunkmates and did manage to catch a bit of sleep through my tossing and turning on that top bunk.