Chainsaw Retreat

A few weeks ago, maybe it was only a couple weeks ago, our church took a retreat for a weekend. The day before it was to begin, Preacherman got a call that a chainsaw party had also been planned at the same camp the same weekend. The theme of our retreat? Sabbath Rest.
The thought of chainsaws blaring in the background as congregants prayed and reflected on higher things just seemed ludicrous. How in the world would anyone really enjoy the peace of a restful retreat?
I was unable to attend the retreat, but I heard it turned out better than expected. The chainsaws weren't too loud, they were scheduled around our church schedule, and it started raining and ended the chainsaw party early.
School pretty much ended for me two weeks ago. Co-op classes with its nearly thirty writing students was over. My last private student ended the next week. Rest was surely in sight. My chainsaws were leaving the party.
Then. . . The in-laws came for a visit (NOT complaining here, L&C!). Prom decorations and plans had to be attended to. A cleaning day at the church we used for co-op was scheduled. Our church needed some all-day maintenance. Other commitments, other events, other noise.
It seems no matter how I try, I can't get away from the chainsaws of life. So Thursday I am leaving for a retreat where chainsaws are, hopefully, outlawed. My parents have graciously offered me a quiet room in the hills of West Virginia.
I plan to write. I hope to find magazines and publishers. I expect to rest. But most of all I will meet God and be renewed. I always am when I sit in the quiet country and listen to the silence.