Women's Retreat

To those of you who prayed (about a month ago! Ha!) that the Women’s Retreat would be restful—thank you! It was sweet rest for my heart, even if I did sacrifice sleep to talk with friends.

The theme of this year’s retreat was “Thrive”. Most days I feel like I’m surviving, but not necessarily thriving. Like Thoreau, I long to “live deep and suck all the marrow out of life”(Walden). I want to thrive, but what does that even look like?

In our fast-paced culture, thriving is often interpreted as “having it all”—money, looks, friends, vacation time, smart kids—whatever defines success in your section of the country. But numerous studies show that having more stuff and living larger and faster doesn’t necessarily equate to more happiness. Instead, we stress ourselves out and have to see therapists. Or drink coffee.

And does personal happiness give good measure of a life is well-lived? This definition fits my selfish tendencies just fine, but as a Christian, I know that there is a higher goal: Christ Himself. To know Him, his person-hood, his agenda, his love for people and the Father—this is great end and delight for which we were made.

And Jesus was pretty blunt: to follow him, we have to lay down our lives. Since He set aside His own personal comfort to rescue me, I’m foolish if I think I can follow him without doing the same.

Ok, but didn’t Jesus come to give us “abundant life”—the life that is truly life? (John 10:10) Obviously, he doesn’t define “the good life" the way we do in America. 

As we sat under the low-beamed ceiling and paper daisies strung for the occasion, wise women in our church began to flesh out a relational side of this whole elusive “thriving” thing for us. Here are some of my take-aways: 

A thriving life is one built solidly on relationship.
   With God
   With myself
   With others

Relationships are built upon time, trust, personal security, and the repeated, courageous decision to unwall my heart. 

These elements create communion, which begets community. And community is--despite the pain of past wounds--the natural state of man, the soil in which we thrive. 

Security in my relationship with God will greatly affect my ability to feel secure in friendships with other women. 


Practially, personally, (and hopefully less Hallmark-y), these tell me, "Okay Cherise, pursuing friendships is meaningful. Don't give up. It's worth it, even if friendships hurt sometimes."

Because I have wounds. Rubbed raw by insecurities, re-opened by perceived slights, the wounds are deeper and fresher than they should be. And it takes grace and courage--tenacious, faith-propped courage--to make that coffee date, that phone call.

And relational pain is part of the package called living. Jesus said some straightforward things about that too: "In this world you will have trouble, but take heart; I have overcome the world."

I came away from the retreat feeling like a fresh wind had blown through my musty thought patterns, loosening their hold and giving me renewed hope in friendships. I am loved. And I needed the reminder.