Launching Seeking Sabbath Retreats: Answering an Unexpected Call
Finding purpose and peace
In 2018 some wordless instinct sparked desire to go on a retreat, something I had not done since I was a young high schooler decades ago.
Unsure of exactly what I was stepping into but feeling a relentless urge to take the step, I decided I wanted someone to join the journey for my own security's sake, so I invited three dear friends - all like-minded individuals - to come along on my first retreat. They all bravely said yes (and have been on many retreats with me since then).
After doing a little research, I realized that the best option was actually the retreat center that I had visited as a young person all those years ago. A beautiful sacred space nestled in a hard-to-find corner of a residential neighborhood in an otherwise bustling town nearby, King's House held some powerful memories for me, from a confirmation day retreat that drew me into a growing spirituality to eating and sleeping there (in dormitory fashion) for a week each summer of my high school career during the amazing amalgamation of church-camp/theater camp experience that was Youth Sing Praise. I remember eating meals there, experiencing some great moments of growth in the conference room and in the chapel and sleeping in a third floor niche in the wall when we were preparing to go to World Youth Day 1993 in Denver to sing for the Pope.
Almost three decades later, my memories of King's House were present but fuzzy, but when I rolled my suitcase across the threshold of the front entryway for that first Quiet Retreat in March of 2019, a rush of sweet familiarity came flooding back, and I could feel my shoulders relax and my breath come more easily.
That first Quiet Retreat - compelling workshops, hours reading on Rocking Chair Row (and enjoying countless oatmeal raisin cookies), quiet meditations sitting on the soft carpet of the chapel, late nights sitting next to the fireplace when the rest of the house was asleep, early morning solo yoga in the meadow as the sun rose, labyrinth walks (my first, now that I think about it) and strolling the grounds with my friends in a break from the silence of the weekend - was so wonderful that on our way home, we all agreed that we wanted to do it every month! Alas, real life and its responsibilities and commitments would not allow for a monthly retreat, but we did decide to try it again in the fall, but this time I would secure a different space and write a retreat that we could work through on our weekend away.
The first fall found us at Vision of Peace Hermitage in Pevely, Missouri, a lovely little piece of Creation dotted with small hermitages built into the landscape. We each had our own space (my hermitage looked out over the river, so I could watch the sun rise each morning) for sleeping and quiet time, and we met and ate in a common area where we also worked together to prepare meals, including Dawn's Scroodles that she'd been telling us about for years.
Our theme that November was "From Roots to Shoots to Blooms to Wings," exploring where we came from, where we were and where we wanted to go. The weekend was perfectly autumn, with cool temperatures and crisp bright leaves littering the pathways between our hermitages and the meeting house. (It also happened to be deer season, so when we ventured out, we were required to wear bright orange vests to protect ourselves!) Despite the vests, it was exactly what retreat is intended to be - a time for rejuvenation, rest and renewal.
We returned to King's House in March of 2020 for another Quiet Retreat, and I distinctly recall checking my phone a few times during the weekend and seeing articles pop up about this illness that was being reported in Asia. I naively thought that it was nothing to worry about...until two weeks later we were all home, quarantined in a whole new world plagued by COVID.
By November 2020, our core group of retreat friends was ready for the opportunity to restore, especially in light of the pandemic fatigue that had set in. I contacted Mercy Conference and Retreat Center in Frontenac, Missouri, inquiring about space for a retreat. (We had been there previously for a day retreat about mindfulness in nature, so we were familiar with the space and knew that it would be a lovely place for a weekend.) Our retreat coordinator was wonderful, inviting us to stay but letting me know that the house would otherwise be quite empty and that we'd have to procure our own meals.
We found ourselves on an empty floor of large suites, sharing time together (masked) in a large lounge where we focused on the theme of Order-Disorder-Reorder, a very timely subject in light of the season our country and the world found itself in. We talked, ate takeout from some great nearby restaurants, researched an interesting piece of artwork that adorned the wall of our lounge, and watched the Biden-Harris victory.
With all of its unique qualities of a 2020 retreat, the time away was still balm for the weariness that had set in. We walked away from Mercy that Sunday feeling reordered and ready - and hopeful - for the new season.
We continued to visit King's House each March, looking forward each spring to a weekend of silence, learning and stillness.
Each November, we found ourselves coming together again for our own retreat: In 2021 we settled into our rustic cabins at San Damiano Retreat Center in the Shawnee Forest for a weekend immersed in the Sacred Feminine. That was a powerful weekend, surrounded by nature on the high banks of the Ohio River. We hiked, sat tightly packed around the tiny dining table of our cabin, shared and studied and came to know ourselves better.
We also had the distinct experience of dodging the deer carcasses hanging in nearby trees too - deer hunting season struck again! To be fair, I had been warned: The week before our retreat, Mark called me from San Damiano and asked in his Southern drawl, "Y'all aren't deer hunters, are ya?" I assured him that, indeed, we were not, and he said, "I didn't think so, so I just wanted to let you know that we're full up that weekend with deer hunters." I appreciated the heads up, but we were still startled when we woke Saturday morning to the sight of dangling trophies in the trees.
Fortunately, the local hunters were kind, especially when we lost our way late Friday night as we were trying to find the off-the-beaten path retreat center and instead stumbled on a deer camp! The gentlemen huddled around the bonfire directed us to the next turn-off and invited us to come back later for a drink. We politely declined but still tell that story.
That beautiful autumn weekend was full of memories beyond the retreat experience: The next day, while my bunkmate took a nap in our cabin, I took a solo walk down the lane. It was nearing dusk, and I kept noticing a lot of noise in the leaf litter. I figured it was squirrels running around until I heard a loud huffing sound coming from an indiscernible area right within the woods. Not waiting to find out what it was (my husband and Mark assured me it was a deer, but I'm not so sure it wasn't Bigfoot!), I turned around and ran as fast as I could. Of course, because we were in a remote part of the forest, I had no mobile signal. I kept punching in my husband's phone number (although looking back, I'm not sure what he could have done from two hours away) and getting nothing until I finally reached the visitor's center where the call went through. Breathing heavy, I told him what had just happened, and he tried to convince me it was a buck warning me away. Consider me warned!
Besides a new awareness of buck snorts, I came away from that November 2021 weekend with two new directives for myself: One was to work on my own embodiment by getting monthly massages with my dear friend and fellow retreatant; the other was to seek therapy. I was in a good headspace, but - after spending months procuring therapists for my own children - I thought it was time for me to find my own.
My search proved fruitless, but on another retreat at Mercy, I noticed their newsletter featuring spiritual directors who worked out of the Retreat Center, and I realized that might be a better option for me. I found one that seemed like a good fit and reached out to her, but she never replied to my email.
"I bet I can find a spiritual director on my own," I thought and typed in "spiritual directors near me" in my Google search bar. The Spiritual Directors International website popped up right away, and I discovered a spiritual director out of St. Louis. In visiting her website, I immediately knew it was a perfect match because she was also a theater teacher, had some of my favorite authors and books on her must-read list and was an enneagram expert (something I have also studied). After a quick email to her, we established a meeting and it has been one of the best investments I have made for myself in years.
My initial objective in meeting with her for the first time was to navigate what I wanted to do with my career because at the end of 2021, I felt a distinct calling to begin designing and directing retreats. Of course, I had done it for a few years for my core retreat friends, but I felt that it was something that could serve a larger population well too. Post-COVID, the world of education and my love of teaching was feeling strained too, so I wanted to explore other things I could do.
I had never considered anything other than teaching: As a little girl, I had lined up my stuffed animals and dolls and "taught" lessons; I would go to my mom's junior high classroom every day after grade school and pretend that I was the teacher at the blackboard. There was never really any doubt in my mind that I would be a teacher, and for two decades I had cherished the work.
One of our pastors once preached on our work. He said something that really struck me and has stayed with me since: Some of us work for a paycheck, and we call that a "job;" some of us work to climb a corporate ladder, and we call that a "career"; some of us work because in our souls it is what we are made to do, and we call that a "calling." For over twenty years, I truly felt that education was my calling. I loved the creative process of composing lessons that would be engaging and challenge students to think critically and communicate with others; I loved the energy of high school students and their insights that taught me so much each year; I loved seeing them grow and learn; I loved building a community with them; I loved the great joy of directing talented, dedicated, passionate, compassionate high school thespians...but in the days after the pandemic, I was growing weary. I was struggling with the changes in protocol, in technology, in the students, in the world. I still wanted to teach, but - for the first time - I realized that I had other options.
The realization that I could do something other than teach was unexpected and came from another unusual circumstance: During the pandemic, I had written a children's book (not something I ever thought I would do) that felt inspired by something outside myself. At the prompting and encouragement of friends, I pursued publishing it. This process felt like a full-time job itself, but one thing that it required me to do was to compose a resume, something I hadn't done since I started teaching in 1998. Putting together this resume was harder than I would have expected, but it pushed me to think outside of the box of teaching. In listing my experiences and skills, I had a lightbulb moment about retreats: I could actually create a career (at least a part-time work) out of designing and directing retreats.
My husband was absolutely on board (he had witnessed my struggles with teaching through and after the pandemic), and I had a group of supportive friends who were encouraging of the endeavor, so I decided to launch Seeking Sabbath Retreats in January of 2022. Over the course of a few days, I built a website, wrote the first retreat (inspired by powerful new year's lessons I had taught in my classroom), reached out to Mercy about using their space for a weekend, and personally invited a handful of friends who I felt would be well served by a retreat. Most of them said an enthusiastic (and supportive) YES!
Through all of the launch and into the actual retreat, I felt total peace, like I was being guided and led in a way I had never felt before. I prayed about it and surrendered the entire endeavor - from the marketing to the programming to the location to the financial side of things to the creative process - to God...and God has been within each moment of retreat work, showing up time and time again to resolve things and to bless spaces and conversations, to lead my words and actions, to inspire always.
Our first group of retreatants, seven close friends of mine who didn't necessarily know one another, joined together in the Guadalupe Lounge at Mercy Retreat Center in the first full weekend of January in 2022, and within moments I knew that we were exactly where we were supposed to be: Women who were strangers immediately began authentically sharing their lives in honest, brave words, sometimes accompanied by tears. Over the course of the weekend, deep support was gently given, new friends listened closely and encouraged one another, and the new year began in earnest with empowering words to carry each of us through the next 12 months.
My confirmation moment that solidified that retreats were my true calling was a brief moment when we all came back together after some solo quiet time in the middle of the day on Saturday. I was sitting in my usual couch corner in the lounge, preparing to lead my friends through a mindfulness practice before we began our next session, and my friend walked into the room. She had been going through a very difficult season, but as she stepped into the room, I gasped: "You're back." Her whole demeanor, the flush in her cheeks, the brightness of her eyes, the genuine smile on her face, a sense of contentment that emanated from her reminded me of the joy-filled woman I had met years ago before life got hard. If that could happen on retreat, how could I not continue to pursue this calling?
So I have. This January marks the 25th retreat for Seeking Sabbath Retreats. In the brief four years since I started building and facilitating retreats, I have been blessed beyond measure by the scores of women who have said yes to the gift of time to renew and rejuvenate. Embracing opportunities for growth, investing in beautiful relationships, discovering sacred spaces that call deeply to my soul, and standing in witness to others doing the same - all of these have transformed my life in ways I never thought possible. Had you told me five years ago that I would be doing this awesome work, I don't know that I would have believed you...but here I am, here we are, and I could not be more grateful.