Back in September - (oh September where did you go!) - I went on a retreat with my campus's
RUF to a red barn on a farm at the end of a windy dirt road. It was perched on a little, green, mound of a hill out in the middle of some nowhere fields dotted with cows.
Leading up to the weekend I knew I had tons and tons of work I should do, but I was determined to go and enjoy the little time away because it was
only one evening.
The past few months there's been a severe drought in the slow, deep-south state and as we began to roll down the rocky red-dirt road the loose dirt billowed up behind us catching the light in a way that made us all turn around and watch it rise and float in the setting sunlight. It was a beautiful moment.
We arrived around 6pm breathing in the open air, soaking up the wide spaces and God-made views. It was so refreshing to get away for a bit.
The evening was spent lying under the stars, chatting about life, listening to a session on
justification, and later poking the gentle glowing fire with a long spindly stick. Fires just have such a calming, hypnotizing effect (...when they're contained...). Everyone just sits round, chatting softly, gazing into it.
Well it was a lovely evening and the morning went much the same. Quiet morning light. Creeping over people and out the door and down the steps to sit on the early, cool, dew-covered grass. Soaking in the crisp air and refreshing light spilling through the cracks in the trees. Ahhhhh, sometimes I wish I was better at getting up in the morning to soak in those early, peaceful, quiet moments. It's such a lovely part of day.
We sat around sketching, eventually grabbing some coffee and a bagel (and maybe a couple m&m's...), and chatted about routine's, likes and dislikes, and dreams for our futures.
A little later as the sun rose higher, making us to peel off our top layers of sweaters and flannels, we headed in for the second session about
sanctification. These two words -
justification and
sanctification - were the theme of the retreat. They're big "church-y" words. I've heard them so often that generally I've blocked them out or skimmed over them, but these session's were good, down-to-earth, simplified, bringing it back to reality even though the terms may seem large and intimidating.
On the way home - window's down, music playing, wind-blown hair - I began to write out everything I needed to do, wondering if I would be able to get it all done. It's so quick - the transition from retreat back to life. Retreat's are needed, even if they're only one night. One night of good conversation, solid teaching, fresh open air. It was needed. One night was a good time to take a deep breath, refocus and prepare to dive back in.
re·treat
/rəˈtrēt/
verb
- move back or withdraw.
- withdraw to a quiet or secluded place.
noun
- an act of moving back or withdrawing.
- a quiet or secluded place in which one can rest and relax.
