It seemed kinda crazy to plan a personal retreat for only a couple days before N.J.’s arrival. I knew that when I blocked that day off a few weeks ago. But, it had to happen and it was the only time it could.
My husband sent me off with his blessing. No kids. No dinner to make. No bedding to change or laundry to do. No homework to help with or lunches to pack. Here in a hotel room with the thermostat turned up to 75 and a constant flow of decaf coffee, I nested.
I brought along a big bag of books thinking I needed some agenda, things to do. I barely looked at them. I spent my hours instead with one single page that Mark had put together for me. There was Scripture to read, familiar words but ones I read over and over in all different translations and was able to read in a new way. He had some words to go with it from one of his favorite thinkers who wrote a good while ago and yet somehow, 300 years later, seemed to have written me a letter today. And, he came up with personal questions for me to wrestle through that would get me to dig deep and consider some hard things. There I nestled in and lingered for a while, retreating from all the busyness and just simmering in the fact that I have a good, good Father who loves me and a husband who cares deeply that I would rest in that truth and become more like Him.
I’d say that is just the right place to be before another pitter patter joins us for a while. I’ve been blessed abundantly. I’ve breathed deeply. The house isn’t totally clean. The frig isn’t stocked. I still have to go to Target and buy some more itty bitty socks and an itty bitty potty. But, my heart is set on what it should be—or as close as it can be given where I am in the middle of the first and second advent.