I always think of soldiers (usually Civil War era) running away from a battle field in total panic when I hear the word “retreat.”  Maybe that’s why it takes me a while to get pumped up about going on church retreats.  Tell me that it’s a weekend of camp, and my first thoughts involve woods and sleeping bags and happiness.  But retreat?  I’d rather not be a Civil War soldier, thank you very much.  Even if I do live in Virginia.

It’s that time of year again–youth group retreat time for my church.  If you’re scratching your head right now, you’re totally in the right.  I am out of the youth group age range, but I have the pleasure of working with the group.  So I retreat, too.

On this glorious retreat, we won’t be doing any running from battle.  There will be s’mores and good discussions and some serious bonding time.  (S’mores aren’t the most important thing on that list.  I just happen to be hungry, so they get top billing.)  It’s going to be good.

Also, I’m sorry that I haven’t had more to say this week.  Between the giant job change, a professional conference, and hanging out with my awesome boyfriend, I’ve been thinking more than writing.  (Is there a nonchalant way to announce a new relationship via blog?  I couldn’t think of one, so there you go.)  Off I go to think some more at the non-Civil War retreat, and I promise to do more writing next week.