On working retreat

As I walk along the path, a breeze dancing in the trees and tossing stray strands of my mousy hair, I can understand why people come here on retreat. The compound is surrounded on three sides by luscious green hills (that turn brown in the dry season). If you sit still, you can hear birds whistling in the trees, and even the flies buzzing around the mangoes rotting on the ground here and there. Now that it’s getting dark—the sky is predominantly mauve at the moment—I can also hear the bats shrieking, cicadas humming, and crickets chirping. What a cacophony! And yet the sounds are soothing, restful. I can hear no nearby church blasting out a worship service on their super duper sound system; no horns blaring; no trumpets or drums; not even an imam calling the faithful to prayer. Only the sounds of nature pour through my open window as I sit on the bed in my private little room.

I’ve been here 33 hours, and right now I feel supersaturated with scripture. I think if my mind tried to wrap itself around one more Bible verse, I’d just explode. Why? Because I’m here to work; that’s why. My work involves the Bible, and for that I am truly thankful. My supervisor/coworker Adena and I are out here in Miango to work. We’re developing a Sunday school curriculum for teenagers, and our primary goal on this retreat is to outline the 52 lessons for year one and find helpful resources for our writers. “Resources” includes not only the Bible—which we’re being very careful to use wisely and in context—but also perhaps two dozen books, from Josh McDowell’s Why Wait? about premarital sex all the way down the spectrum to Caution: Dangerous Devotions by Jackie Perseghetti. These books are fantastic. Okay, granted, I haven’t read any of them. But they look fantastic!

I clearly remember my teen years, seeing as they were pretty recent. I remember the struggles I faced and the hopelessness of having no answers. I remember being lonely, being laughed at, being depressed because no guys liked me (and because Sunipa always got higher scores than I did!). I can still feel that pain. So I’m hoping that gives me insight into structuring these lessons. Dude. Teens need help. That’s all there is to it. .

But tonight, having completed 42 of our 52 lesson sketches, I am indulging in a bit of relaxation. In fact, I’m not sure what to do with my time! I brought with me a book of science fiction short stories (thanks, Grampa!) I’ve dipped into (yes, I ended a clause with a preposition, so sue me!), and Harry Potter and the Chamber [dang blast these mosquitoes!] of Secrets. (I’m trying to read all six before my friend Christine brings me book seven at the end of July.) And I brought three movies—The Princess Bride, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I have a notebook and pens. I even have my husband’s (well, “our” since mine died) computer. (Did I mention he traveled to Ibadan in southern Nigeria for a medical conference? He’ll be back tomorrow night.) I’ve almost finished a story I’ve been writing on his (our) computer, so I could finish that, if I can figure out how. On the other hand, I’m hoping Heidi—whose family is spending a week here on vacation from Kano up north—will pop in and invite me to play Settlers of Catan. (Yes, I finally learned it and love it!) So who knows? I’m tired of working [why are there ants on my bedspread!] but am invigorated by having spent the whole day immersed in God’s word! Wow!

Well, I think this post is done. Time to rest my weary carpal-tunnel-ridden hands!