Where was I? Oh yes, winding up the foothills toward Marion. I arrived in Montreat just in time for a light rain. As I waited for the group to arrive, I listened to the rain dripping out of the mountain laurel and smelled the mossy-dirt smell that instantly makes me want to throw a tent in the woods and cook something yummy over an open flame. And listen for bears.
Then I met my companions for the weekend. Pretty much all of us are mothers of pre-schoolers, with a grandparent or two enlisted in helping "Dad" with childcare so we could make a quick escape. I instantly felt at home with these ladies, after we cleared up that I was not the housekeeper. I might have laughed so hard I peed. But I won't tell.
Life has been so full of hurry and the mysteries of pre-toddlerhood lately that I hardly knew what to do with myself upon being given the option to shop or sleep/read. In the instant I had to decide, sleep/read won. Boy, did it win.
|The group after our killer hike up Lookout Mountain. I won't lie. I was dying. But I did it!|
I loved our retreat study, Loving Well, by Beth Moore. I hate to tell my Baptist friends, but that lady is all-out Pentecostal! :) In any case, it was so evident that she is a woman of prayer and love above all. We really dove in to divine love, loving beyond our capabilities. Anyone can love those who love them back. But we are called to love the unlovable, the unloved, our enemies and the stranger. An by love, I mostly mean "serve." That's what love really is when it comes down to it. Am I willing to give up some of my "me..." my time, my resources, my energy and spend it on "my neighbor?" Very challenging. I need to continue drinking from the loving well to love well.
Of course, wee little dude decided to really take off walking AFTER I LEFT on Friday. I mean, I was home until 2:30 pm! Daddy and Grandma got to watch him do 7-8 steps at a time. Oh well, he put on a walking show for me when I got home by walking from the front door to the sofa! And don't ask me why I put exclamation points all up in this paragraph. His walking means more mommy running--hopefully outrunning. And that sneaky momma-fear that creeps over you when things get a little too quiet. I will always be wondering where he's going to go next and hoping like heck the bathroom door is closed and he isn't discovering what his rubber ducky looks like in the toilet bowl.
The mountains were bliss and peace...but so is my current chaos.