Retreat

We had a team retreat this last Friday. We took off at 5 am while Orion was still trekking through the western sky, and the waning crescent was still safe from the blinding rays of the sun. We drove about half an hour to some mountains and set up camp. While we were making the greasy and yet enticing "eggs in a basket," the sun rose, seemingly leaping above the rounded hills to stake it's claim on the day.

I like to pretend that I have a secret with the sky. When I see the moon, I talk to it, telling it things. I stare up at the constellations like I'm looking for my home and peer at a azure sky in search of a day moon.

But I really have no reason for my conspiracy, as I think this was the first time that I've gotten up before the sun in a long, long time. It's not because I don't want to, it's because I'm lazy and I stay up too late nights on g-chat.

For the middle part of the morning we went on our own to spend time with the Lord. The last time I had come to these mountains, I climbed up, settling myself on a rocky shelf, my back to a surprising comfortable rock and a calming panorama in front of me. This time, inspired by the recent dry weather and the idea of water, I followed a little brook and sat down at a bend. It sang to itself while I sat and listened and prayed and read. At one point I was interrupted by branches being trampled. As I couldn't see, I sat and waited. It was just some cows, getting a drink. I was reminded to be a cow of the Word, taking it slowly, thoughtfully. Chewing my cud as I meditate on scripture.
When we came back for lunch I was feeling a little warm. I took off two of my five layers and wrapped one around my head to ward off the midday sun. Unfortunately, that moment is forever captured, here.