The clergy retreat at Shrine Mont was wonderful -- the Diocese of Virginia is so kind to take us away from the world for a few days.
The weather was perfect until it was time to leave anyway, and it seemed to be peak season for fall leaf-looking. There's nothing like driving by cows munching green grass by streams surrounded by mountains covered with orange and yellow leaves to help you realize you are leaving the busy-ness of normal life behind.
It was great reconnecting with colleages and having a few days where I had no real responsibilities. And even better to have a handful of hours specifically set aside to get reconnected to God.
As I walked the beautiful labyrinth at Shrine Mont, I was confronted with how much I'm currently prisoner of my packed schedule and penchant for multi-tasking. I made it to the center decently well, noticing the fallen leaves on the dirt paths between the rocks that make up the guiding lines of the labyrinth. I reflected for a while on how the death of the leaves yield such amazing things - not just the colors but that beautiful smell of autumn. I thought about the footprints in front of me, reminders of other people seeking God before, behind and all around me. But the hard truth came after I'd reached the center and stood quiet for a while. My first thought on heading back out was to walk over the dividing lines of the labyrinth and move on to my next spiritual undertaking. I realized how absurd that was and steeled myself to slowly walk back out. It was a rude awakening to how often I try to fit God into certain little boxes rather than making time and space for God to act in some new and unexpected way.
When I got home on Wednesday, I immediately realized the cost of my retreat. My baby had missed her nap and was fussy, my son was coming down with a cold and was fussy, my daughter couldn't find her homework, the house was a mess, the laundry pile was ridiculous and the refridgerator empty. And that wonderful peace and feeling of well-being that I'd found at Shrine Mont was gone before I'd even unpacked. But it's good to be home, nonetheless. Snuggling with my children, sharing with my husband, and re-energized for life in the parish. And just a little more conscious that I am a beloved child of God. And that is priceless.
The weather was perfect until it was time to leave anyway, and it seemed to be peak season for fall leaf-looking. There's nothing like driving by cows munching green grass by streams surrounded by mountains covered with orange and yellow leaves to help you realize you are leaving the busy-ness of normal life behind.
It was great reconnecting with colleages and having a few days where I had no real responsibilities. And even better to have a handful of hours specifically set aside to get reconnected to God.
As I walked the beautiful labyrinth at Shrine Mont, I was confronted with how much I'm currently prisoner of my packed schedule and penchant for multi-tasking. I made it to the center decently well, noticing the fallen leaves on the dirt paths between the rocks that make up the guiding lines of the labyrinth. I reflected for a while on how the death of the leaves yield such amazing things - not just the colors but that beautiful smell of autumn. I thought about the footprints in front of me, reminders of other people seeking God before, behind and all around me. But the hard truth came after I'd reached the center and stood quiet for a while. My first thought on heading back out was to walk over the dividing lines of the labyrinth and move on to my next spiritual undertaking. I realized how absurd that was and steeled myself to slowly walk back out. It was a rude awakening to how often I try to fit God into certain little boxes rather than making time and space for God to act in some new and unexpected way.
When I got home on Wednesday, I immediately realized the cost of my retreat. My baby had missed her nap and was fussy, my son was coming down with a cold and was fussy, my daughter couldn't find her homework, the house was a mess, the laundry pile was ridiculous and the refridgerator empty. And that wonderful peace and feeling of well-being that I'd found at Shrine Mont was gone before I'd even unpacked. But it's good to be home, nonetheless. Snuggling with my children, sharing with my husband, and re-energized for life in the parish. And just a little more conscious that I am a beloved child of God. And that is priceless.
Comments
Post a Comment