Rest, ..and Be Holy! I am back in ordinary time. Today I cannot even remember quite how it felt. All those stellar thoughts I could not wait to write about..are just not here anymore. Were they inspired by the Holy Spirt or a shot too many of caffeine, some cyclothymic high, relief from family issues or was it just plain sunshine, good wine and friendship that fueled me on my solo Mothers day retreat? Or could this be is just what happens when anxious mothers take a break from mothering.
Mother's day loomed ahead. But this time I did not have the energy to be fixing family, and fancy food for others who felt obliged to honor this all-American Hallmark feast. How sacriligeous to not care to be the perfect mother on Mother's Day! Yet, I would not gear up for it somehow. I could not because I was exhausted from wrestling with depression and anxiety, stubborn demons that may only leave with prayer..and fasting. I needed such time for prayer, and certainly a kind of fasting, fasting from my full plate of worries and responsibilities. I needed to get away and allow Someone to feed me a pure and simple diet. The better portion! I needed cleansing.
Suddenly, I saw an opportunity . Yes! I would go away for Mothers’ Day.. a retreat, by myself. I could not believe I would allow myself to do exactly what I needed and wanted. I felt a lift of spirit which I hadn't for a while. In secret, the Retreat Master had planned this getaway for me and had already prepared a place and all the details to make it happen. All I had to do was say yes,.. and make some calls. His plan for me was to take stuff for an overnight including just three things, my Bible, my Rosary, and Brother Lawrence’s Practicing the Presence. I packed very lightly and went ahead, with the blessing of my husband and children. I booked a massage, a room at a nearby lodge, and a visit with my closest friend and spiritual director. Eat, drink, rest, and be holy, the secret inscription on my soul read, for you are invited to taste, and see that I am …wholly delicious .
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