There was a women's retreat that focused on spiritual growth. It has been my good fortune to attend many such events over a lifetime, and each has been a blessing.  The one last weekend was called Gathering Leaves, as a tribute to the passage in Revelation that speaks to the healing of the nations. The women who came have much in common. There are also differences. 

 

My contribution was music, while others brought dance, art, jewelry making, worship, a sound bath, walks in our lovely surroundings, and a range of workshops. We enjoyed small groups, and the opportunity to listen well. During one of the presentations, a good friend sitting behind me tapped me on the shoulder.

 

"If you care, your shirt is on inside out."

 

I slipped out to flip it around, having only missed a minute or two. 

 

One of the workshops I chose was about scripture reading. Rather than engaging in a doctrinal discussion about it, the intention was to share our impressions from the passage. 

 

"But I saw no temple in it, for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple. The city had no need of the sun or of the moon to shine in it, for the glory of God illuminated it. The Lamb is its light." Revelation 21

 

How did it make us feel, and what did we hope to do about it? My reflection was how I cherish the light. As I age, I resist driving at night, and find reassurance from the sun. When my children were shorter, I installed light switch cords that made it possible for them to turn them on. All they had to do was pull the red ball. My personal task in the class was to both look for and value illumination during the weekend, and it brought sweetness to achieve it. Even as I drove home in the dark, there was the limited illumination from headlights and streetlamps, and I gave thanks for them.  

 

While choosing and stringing a gorgeous collection of beads from around the world, we sat in silence. It was a meditative hour, in which I could look carefully, notice beauty and color, and perform the repetitive motion of sliding a connective string. It turns out that every bead has a secret hole, one that enables it to be joined to others. I liked that. 

 

There was a puppet show on the final evening, which made us howl with laughter, while at the same time challenged us to perhaps see our discrepancies in a fresh light. The choir that sang filled the hall with joy. 

 

Spiritual retreats are a place for changing our priorities. For seventy-two hours, I forgot about making judgments about others. It was my good luck to realize that light is within reach, even when I feel small. Plus the metaphor of turning my shirt inside out makes me smile.