Right now, unattended, two fires are burning on the property. One is the campfire, where we burned our sins written on little slips of paper, an then made s'mores. The other is an alcohol and slat fire burning in a casserole dish in the grotto.
Sue and I just did a confirmation retreat for two teens who missed their regular retreat. I've never done a retreat for just two before! Lucky for us, they were engaged and willing to share when the occasion demanded it.
I smell of smoke. It really got in my hair I guess. I kind of like it. I like the earthy, salty, smoky kinds of prayer experiences. And sticky s'mores with ashes stuck in them. And those stupid cheap blue ballpoint pens that you have to force to write. And scraps of magazine clippings on the dining room floor. And pans with cold pizza cheese burnt onto them. It all spells teen retreat to me. It's me, being about My Father's business. It's the mission I'm given here. I'm glad to be here. It's like Catholic Heaven.