Transubstantiation, trauma and tea

Retreat     noun \ri-ˈtrēt\

(1) : an act or process of withdrawing

(2) : a place of privacy or safety

(3) : a period of group withdrawal for prayer, meditation, study, or instruction

God never fails to surprise me. Over the past seven weeks, by a heaven-sent turn of events, I have:

Joined Lighthouse

Joined Girls' Group

Started this blog

Made friends with good, holy people

Been unceasingly inspired by these people

Begun to pray much more ardently

Attended an amazing Lighthouse retreat

Read the highly inspirational Children of Fatima

Attended a wonderful God's Girls retreat to Auckland 

I just got back from the hindmost of these yesterday, and have begun to marvel at the evidence of God's grace in my life. Although I've been Catholic all my life, I've never been a particularly devout or sacrificial friend of God. Although the past eighteen months have brought some changes in my faith, and I've become increasingly aware of my need for God,  it was not until the evening of Wednesday the 24th of August 2011 that I truly knew. Knew, finally, truly, the meaning and purpose of my life. Thank you so much, God, for showing me your love through these beautiful holy women and for providing me with these new opportunities to worship and glorify You.

Anyhoo, two days ago God's Girls packed into the Sealy-mobile and Bubbles and set off for Auckland. After a whirlwind (yet painfully long) 3-hour-trip, frequented with incorrect GoogleMaps directions (to the Anglican, not Catholic, cathedral), my annoying backseat driving, several decades of the rosary, the fear of death on the motorway and nose bleeds, we finally arrived at the right cathedral- just in time for adoration and mass! Seriously, God, you are the master of good timing and blissful coincidences! As an especial blessing for me, this cathedral is the one where my parents were married almost 22 years ago!

Moving on, we took with trepidation to the ice, and skated precariously around a disco-ball adorned rink to the heathen (but quite catchy) music. I believe it safe to say that I was the least coordinated person on the ice, as I have yet to grasp the concept of moving in the skates. My gracelessness has manifested itself in several large purple bruises. Painful and humiliating as it was, I did (kind-of) enjoy it.

We spent the night at Tyburn Monastery, a humbling and glorious experience in itself. Monastic tea just seems to be exponentially better than any other. I think I had five cups. A couple of us woke up at 5.15am to attend the nuns' first morning prayers, a beautiful and energising experience. Sunrise, birdsong and tea were enjoyed from the chapel porch, and we later joined the nuns for mass. 

This retreat was lovely, and I just want to thank everyone who made it possible. And God. With a happy heart I returned.