Ah, the yearly women's retreat. Would you believe that out of all the years I've been involved with various churches that I've never actually attended a Women's Retreat? For years, I have listened to women return giggling about trip highlights and tearing up over deeply intimate shared stories. I, for one, love to giggle and I am certainly an open book when I start chatting - for better or for worse. And I am most definitely always up for an adventure that can be cataloged in my mound of photo albums that only I am particular about. But I have never wanted to attend one of these so-called "life changing, much needed, amazing" Women's Retreat.
Why? Let's see...
I get car sick. I get homesick. I don't like not feeling in control of my schedule. Scheduled prayer time feels weird and uncomfortable to me. Groups over the size of 8 bring out the introvert inside. The thought of hearing "church" words used repeatedly makes me roll my eyes. To me, packing is the equivalent of forced labor. And I'm not outdoorsy, board-game loving or over scheduled eating driven. I also worry about being left out, or not knowing anyone or having awkward conversation and having to smile when I don't want to...and then my mouth just hurts. Also, that is a LOT of estrogen in one place. Don't these wonderful qualities about myself just sound so charming? I know everyone is lining up outside my door now to join me on a group camping trip.
After being nudged (ok, extreme nudging) I took the leap, I signed the dotted line and placed it on my calendar. Once something is placed on my calendar...there is no turning back. I am not really sure why I give so much power to my calendar, but in this case, it worked out for the better.
In 2013, at the age of 26, I attended my first Women's Retreat. And you know what? I survived. Not only did I survive, but I had....(brace yourself) fun. I laughed and my mouth did not hurt. I also cried and it felt good. A great release. I didn't hear the "church" words because I was so invested in the actual words, stories, smiles, and tears. I did get car sick and a little homesick, but it went away. I skipped scheduled prayer time and got lost in a good book, Bittersweet. While reading, the author voiced one of my struggles in a different light and I instantly understood that I had been praying for the wrong thing. Funny how that works. I had plenty of friends to sit with, chat with, and eat with. I did not feel alone or left out. I was even outdoorsy and it felt great.
I also realized how much of a freak I am with packing for every emergency known to man...sunscreen, ibuprofen, advil, tylenol, benadryl, drammamine, bandaids, sore throat spray, lactaid, cough drops, eye drops, etc. #truecamper
"She had the loaded handbag of someone who camps out and seldom goes home, or who imagines life must be full of emergencies."~ Mavis Gallant
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| Glen Spey, NY - Lake Champion |
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