A Princess' Beginning?
I have decided to tell you all a little about the church retreat I went on a couple weekends ago. I have a lot to write, so I will probably break it up for you. The retreat was called “Women’s Adventure Weekend”. Now, let me start by saying that aside from bible camp in my tween years and a solitary scrap booking weekend last year, I am not a “weekend event” type person. I mean, why vacation for a weekend? Why go away for the weekend? To me, a break is no shorter than 5 days and a weekend out is just a tease that makes you feel like you have more time to relax. In reality, you have less time because you have to pack, unpack, and travel. By the time your weekend is over, you feel like you had no weekend at all. To say the least, I was not particularly excited about a retreat a few weekends ago, let alone having it with church and women! I did have a head’s up on the weekend, though, as my dad had attended the Men’s Adventure Weekend a few months earlier. I figured they would do the same events, have the same surprises, and talk the same talk. I thought that since I knew these things, I would not be so involved in the activities and emotions that usually run high with church functions.
When I arrived at my mom’s house to be delivered to the church I was in a horrible mood. That morning my truck window had broken, and I had fought with it in the rain in the parking lot of work only to be unsuccessful and retreat to my desk soaking wet and over 15 minutes late. Jay insisted that the dealership was too busy to fix it (even though he had not called) and he taped up the window until we could get it fixed. Since the puppies were due that weekend, I knew this would inhibit my ability to drive to Denver at the last minute. Just to add to my frustration, I cannot drive Jay’s car because it is a stick shift. There is nothing worse than the feeling of being trapped. I was pretty much packed except for my toiletries and mom reminded me that I needed my bible. Since I my study bible has been swallowed up somewhere in my house, I decided to take my gold-edged stamped bible that I keep at work. I had to be at moms as soon as possible so I could eat dinner and be at the church by 5:45 PM. I knew this would be interesting because I get off work at 4:30 PM. Anyway, the end of my work day rolled around and I flew out so fast that I forgot my bible. Not to fear, I packed and returned to work to grab it before heading to the parent’s house. It was then I noticed I was out of gas, so I had to stop and fill up. (Keep in mind that the gas station is out of the way.) I had conveniently forgotten about Friday traffic and by the time I arrived it was 5:45 PM and we had to be at the church no later than 6 PM. My dear father had prepared a bowl of stew for me to eat on the day to the church. You know how you feel when you are stressed, rushed, nervous and generally not hungry? Yes, I was all of them. I politely declined the stew and grabbed a protein shake from the refrigerator. Who would have thought this would cause my dad to have a complete streak of anger! He was absolutely disgusted that I was late and declined his meal. It was a nice touch to add to my mood which was spiraling downward with each passing minute.
We arrived at the church and even had time to spare. Sitting in the backseat of the car I felt like a kid again being dropped off for camp. There were swarms of ladies, husbands, kids and cars. There was a yellow school bus that was also calling me back to earlier times. We got out of the car just in time for some perky lady to run up and take our family picture. All of a sudden, I was washed over with dread. Someone grabbed my suitcase and pinned a nametag on my shirt, then mom and I waited in the sanctuary for our departure. I observed all the women sitting and chatting around me. There were all kinds of ladies to watch. I instantly noticed a beautiful African American sitting across from us talking with a slender red-head. My gaze wandered to a lady that had the same butterfly hair clip I had at home in my drawer. Another mother and daughter appeared in front of us. Both had dark brown hair with bleach white streaks, layers of make-up and heavy carats of diamonds on their fingers. The coordinators of the weekend event had grey shirts on and huge smiles. Inside I frowned as I waited for instructions in regards to my weekend of imprisonment.
A bit after 6 PM our attention was called to the stage where a lovely lady looking amazingly like Pocahontas started speaking to us. Her eyes were brimming with tears as she told us that they had staff praying for each of us for four months, along with friends we had assigned as prayer partners. She gushed over how our attending the retreat was no accident and there was a divine reason we were to be involved. I am sure on the outside I looked respectful (as I usually try to) but inside I was scoffing horribly. I was here because my mother signed me up and I was her safety blanket… with all of my heart I believed that I was going to be a support for my mom and I hoped that in return I would grow a little closer to the Lord as a result of the forced itinerary. We loaded onto the bus which happened to be for very small children. Mom promptly took the first seat behind the driver and I sat next to her on the tiny rubber bench. I was again reminded of my robust size as my knees seemed to punch holes in the back of the next seat. After almost every lady had boarded the bus, one climbed the stars and politely asked us to move so she could have the front seat. She said she felt ill and might have to evacuate quickly. “Great, here is a bright one”, I thought, “Go to a retreat with the flu.” Mom and I retreated to the back of the bus where we found one empty bench which just happened to be directly behind the beautiful black woman I had been admiring earlier. After squeezing in, I sat back and took a breath. At that moment I thought I was going to die. I could hear nothing over the deafening chatter of the sound that I truly despise – giddy women. I had been tipped that we would have our cell phones and watched revoked upon arrival, so I pulled out my cell phone and promptly sent a text message to Jay and Megan. It read “I am going to the retreat prison. I will call you when I escape” and I meant every word. You see, one year at the Men’s Adventure Weekend, a man really did escape. He ran in the dark of the night far from the conference center to the truck station (I am guessing) about 7 miles away. He was discovered missing the next morning. Anyway, fighting nausea from riding in the back of the bus, we pulled into the parking lot of the conference center about 6:45 PM. Upon unloading us, the volunteers were cheering and giving us high-five’s as we entered the building. I felt completely awkward and out of place. We were divided into groups and taken for a tour of the facility. We were then allowed 10 minutes to go to our rooms until we had to meet and get started with the activities. Mom had arranged that we room together (of course) and we met briefly before separating again into our groups. As I sat at the table with 6 other women, I felt like a kid during the first day of school. You know that feeling, right? That you have no idea what they are going to ask of you, what they expected from you and no idea what kind of snap judgments people had made about you. The part I loathed the most was I was sure people wanted to know all my “dirty little secrets” so they could fix me. I made an oath to myself that nobody needed to know my issues and I would just have to hold it together all weekend. I took a deep breath as I introduced myself to the people around my table…
When I arrived at my mom’s house to be delivered to the church I was in a horrible mood. That morning my truck window had broken, and I had fought with it in the rain in the parking lot of work only to be unsuccessful and retreat to my desk soaking wet and over 15 minutes late. Jay insisted that the dealership was too busy to fix it (even though he had not called) and he taped up the window until we could get it fixed. Since the puppies were due that weekend, I knew this would inhibit my ability to drive to Denver at the last minute. Just to add to my frustration, I cannot drive Jay’s car because it is a stick shift. There is nothing worse than the feeling of being trapped. I was pretty much packed except for my toiletries and mom reminded me that I needed my bible. Since I my study bible has been swallowed up somewhere in my house, I decided to take my gold-edged stamped bible that I keep at work. I had to be at moms as soon as possible so I could eat dinner and be at the church by 5:45 PM. I knew this would be interesting because I get off work at 4:30 PM. Anyway, the end of my work day rolled around and I flew out so fast that I forgot my bible. Not to fear, I packed and returned to work to grab it before heading to the parent’s house. It was then I noticed I was out of gas, so I had to stop and fill up. (Keep in mind that the gas station is out of the way.) I had conveniently forgotten about Friday traffic and by the time I arrived it was 5:45 PM and we had to be at the church no later than 6 PM. My dear father had prepared a bowl of stew for me to eat on the day to the church. You know how you feel when you are stressed, rushed, nervous and generally not hungry? Yes, I was all of them. I politely declined the stew and grabbed a protein shake from the refrigerator. Who would have thought this would cause my dad to have a complete streak of anger! He was absolutely disgusted that I was late and declined his meal. It was a nice touch to add to my mood which was spiraling downward with each passing minute.
We arrived at the church and even had time to spare. Sitting in the backseat of the car I felt like a kid again being dropped off for camp. There were swarms of ladies, husbands, kids and cars. There was a yellow school bus that was also calling me back to earlier times. We got out of the car just in time for some perky lady to run up and take our family picture. All of a sudden, I was washed over with dread. Someone grabbed my suitcase and pinned a nametag on my shirt, then mom and I waited in the sanctuary for our departure. I observed all the women sitting and chatting around me. There were all kinds of ladies to watch. I instantly noticed a beautiful African American sitting across from us talking with a slender red-head. My gaze wandered to a lady that had the same butterfly hair clip I had at home in my drawer. Another mother and daughter appeared in front of us. Both had dark brown hair with bleach white streaks, layers of make-up and heavy carats of diamonds on their fingers. The coordinators of the weekend event had grey shirts on and huge smiles. Inside I frowned as I waited for instructions in regards to my weekend of imprisonment.
A bit after 6 PM our attention was called to the stage where a lovely lady looking amazingly like Pocahontas started speaking to us. Her eyes were brimming with tears as she told us that they had staff praying for each of us for four months, along with friends we had assigned as prayer partners. She gushed over how our attending the retreat was no accident and there was a divine reason we were to be involved. I am sure on the outside I looked respectful (as I usually try to) but inside I was scoffing horribly. I was here because my mother signed me up and I was her safety blanket… with all of my heart I believed that I was going to be a support for my mom and I hoped that in return I would grow a little closer to the Lord as a result of the forced itinerary. We loaded onto the bus which happened to be for very small children. Mom promptly took the first seat behind the driver and I sat next to her on the tiny rubber bench. I was again reminded of my robust size as my knees seemed to punch holes in the back of the next seat. After almost every lady had boarded the bus, one climbed the stars and politely asked us to move so she could have the front seat. She said she felt ill and might have to evacuate quickly. “Great, here is a bright one”, I thought, “Go to a retreat with the flu.” Mom and I retreated to the back of the bus where we found one empty bench which just happened to be directly behind the beautiful black woman I had been admiring earlier. After squeezing in, I sat back and took a breath. At that moment I thought I was going to die. I could hear nothing over the deafening chatter of the sound that I truly despise – giddy women. I had been tipped that we would have our cell phones and watched revoked upon arrival, so I pulled out my cell phone and promptly sent a text message to Jay and Megan. It read “I am going to the retreat prison. I will call you when I escape” and I meant every word. You see, one year at the Men’s Adventure Weekend, a man really did escape. He ran in the dark of the night far from the conference center to the truck station (I am guessing) about 7 miles away. He was discovered missing the next morning. Anyway, fighting nausea from riding in the back of the bus, we pulled into the parking lot of the conference center about 6:45 PM. Upon unloading us, the volunteers were cheering and giving us high-five’s as we entered the building. I felt completely awkward and out of place. We were divided into groups and taken for a tour of the facility. We were then allowed 10 minutes to go to our rooms until we had to meet and get started with the activities. Mom had arranged that we room together (of course) and we met briefly before separating again into our groups. As I sat at the table with 6 other women, I felt like a kid during the first day of school. You know that feeling, right? That you have no idea what they are going to ask of you, what they expected from you and no idea what kind of snap judgments people had made about you. The part I loathed the most was I was sure people wanted to know all my “dirty little secrets” so they could fix me. I made an oath to myself that nobody needed to know my issues and I would just have to hold it together all weekend. I took a deep breath as I introduced myself to the people around my table…
posted by Nic at 1:37 PM
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