My family participated in a church-wide retreat this past weekend. It was a wonderful experience. We were surrounded by beautiful mountains covered with trees changing to colors of auburn, orange, red, and gold. Gorgeous…
And there was fellowship. We gathered around a campfire singing, joined in group discussions about faith, and laughed until we almost cried at our Saturday night production – but that would take another complete blog entry to explain. Our boys had a great time with their friends, too.
There were unexpected moments of blessing for me at our Sunday morning service among God’s creation. We listened to a men’s group singing “Be Still, My Soul” – one of my favorite hymns. We were reminded of the power and wholeness that comes from prayer. As a church family, we joined in the sacrament of Communion. And singing with two friends while gazing at a wooden cross on the hilltop where we stood was a priceless spiritual moment for me.
It wasn’t until I returned home that I realized with a tinge of regret that I hadn’t seen the stars. There’s nothing more beautiful to me than the night sky away from city lights so the stars shine brightly against their black background. And yet, I forgot to look up.
But I did look around. I made a point to talk with people I don’t normally get to spend time with. Conversations about everything from parenting choices to fashion challenges to God’s grace filled my time there. For me, this retreat was not really a retreat from the bounds of my everyday life but rather a progression towards relationships. And while I didn’t see the stars, nothing could shine more brightly than the eyes of these treasured friends – both old and new.