In high school and college, I had the privilege of attending a number of spiritual retreats put on by the Jesuits. During those retreats, I would escape and search my soul and connect with people and grow. They usually only lasted a weekend, but they always felt longer. When I returned home from these retreats, I'd feel as though I had been gone forever. I'd also feel high on hope and joy and love and exhaustion. Many retreaters referred to this feeling as a "spiritual high."
When I got home last night from my girls weekend in Toulouse, I told Tony that I was experiencing one of these highs. It feels good. Really good.
We didn't do any structured prayer or reflection or sharing time during our girls weekend. But we did cut loose and laugh
and goof around
and walk without strollers
and enjoy all the wonderfulness of France preparing for Christmas.
We stayed up 'til dawn and giggled like teenagers and even broke out a few dance moves. We had fun. Pure fun. My cheeks still ache from smiling so much. Best of all? We bonded and continued to build upon friendships that I hope will last a lifetime.
I know from experience that this high won't last. I'll slowly come down and feel normal again. That's just life. But I also know from experience that this retreat helped me grow. It gave me confidence. It stamped my soul with goodness. The memories will always make me smile and laugh.
Thanks, girls. It was just what I needed.