Mikki's Posts

So I was sitting there eating and a lady who was not dressed as staff approached the table and asked if I was the one staying in the guest house. I said yes and she told me she was going to get a cup of coffee, implying to me that she would like to walk back with me. I finished up, cleared my place and then went down a couple tables to join her. I introduced myself and she did the same. Her name was Barbara and she was an oblate. I had no idea what that was at the time and she didn’t offer an explanation, even a little while later when I told her I was not Catholic. She was a delight to talk to and invited me to Compline, which is the evening prayer time. We ended up talking about a lot of things. Of note—she asked what I was. I started out with, I follow Christ. To me, that is the most important identification anyone can make. I mentioned my diversity of Christian denominations; I grew up in the Assemblies of God, my brother and sister-in-law go to a Baptist church, my dad and ste...

After the freak-out and unpacking I had explored the guest house a little just to get my bearing and get comfortable with the surrounding, and I had paused by the front desk. I picked up an info brochure about the guest house. Thankfully it listed all the meal times and I had discovered the guest house dining hall on the quick little self tour. I set my alarm but I ended up heading to the dining hall early. I thought it was weird that I got there under ten minutes early and the kitchen area was still dark and locked up. I sat outside for a little bit until I heard someone clanking around. That lady that I had almost run into earlier was in there. Checking the drink machines and clearing the trays left over from lunch. I went in, got another glass of cranberry juice and sat down. We smiled and acknowledged each other. The time crept by and about 5:40 or so I got up the courage to ask the lady if I was in the right place for dinner. She was shocked to say the least. She asked if an...

I finished the glass of cranberry juice and walked outside to a courtyard. I almost let myself get run over by a lady directing a tray rack to the kitchen. She and I exchanged pleasantries but she had no idea how uncomfortable I was. Out in the courtyard I could smell smoke. I had found the staff’s smoke break area. I sat down in the double sliding chair and tried to get a handle on myself. I couldn’t. I wanted to get into my car and just go home. I called Melissa T. I had been meaning to call her again. We kept missing each other this past week and playing phone tag. Almost as soon as I opened my mouth, I wanted to cry. I told her I couldn’t do this. That I felt out of place and uncomfortable. If you knew my friend Melissa, you’d know immediately she was not about to coddle me. I think I appreciate that about her the most. She doesn’t pull punches and she doesn’t sugar coat what needs to be said. She’s upfront and speaks her mind. Melissa told me I couldn’t go home. She said n...

I don't like change. I'm human. New experiences are scary and, well, new. So what did I do this week for my birthday? I went on a 2 day-1 night personal retreat down in Saint Meinrad, Indiana. My first personal retreat. Appropriately enough I stayed at the Saint Meinrad Archabbey (guest house, that is). (No, I haven't converted to Catholic. Yes, my birthday was in April but I'm celebrating all year long because I turned 30.) So, what does one do exactly on a personal retreat? Well, I’m glad you asked.  I got the idea from two books I’ve read this year. The first is Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster and the second is Every Woman’s Battle by Shannon Etheridge. The idea evolved into getting some intensive quality time with just me and God. An extended quiet time, if you will. I planned on taking some cues from Foster and doing some studying. The drive was beautiful. Straight shot down 65 to Louisville (that's pronounced Lou-uh-vul for those non-Kentuc...