Last summer I finished the arduous task of completing draft number one of my first book and forwarding it to a freelance editor. It’s a very personal memoir, and the process of writing it was therapeutic.

Shortly thereafter, final planning for a weekend Ragamuffin Retreat began. Here’s the inside scoop. Venues do have to be reserved and deposits placed in advance. But while we may have speakers and musicians scheduled and have had a general discussion with them fairly early, often the real planning of the program doesn’t come together until the last couple of weeks.

It’s how we roll.

And there’s something to be said for planning a spiritual retreat as the spirit moves you.

Sometimes I get asked what the retreat theme will be.

“The love of God. It’s always the love of God. Beyond that, we’ll tell you when you get there.”

We don’t know the theme yet. But God does. You can pray for us to be still and silent enough to hear it.

The schedule? I get asked that, too. We of course announce check-in / dismissal times so everyone can plan their travel. Details, however, will change up until the moment we hit “print”. And let’s be honest – even after that as we go with the flow.

What was it I said about embracing change? Getting comfortable with uncertainty would be a great idea, too.

Embrace the change. There will always be change. Getting comfortable with uncertainty would be a great idea, too. ~ Jennifer Grashel Click To Tweet

My dear friend and ministry partner, organizer of the retreat program, and the most encouraging person I know asked me what I wanted to talk about.

“Well, I just finished the first draft of this manuscript, so … grief and loss seems appropriate.” Grief and loss was a thing all members of the team were dealing with in various ways. There was our sub-theme.

A few days later I was asked for a “provocative” title for my two-part talk. Three-part or two-and-a-half really since we had a wrap-up at least vaguely planned for Sunday morning. I had to laugh. I knew he meant provocative not as in salacious, but as in “challenges people to think” and maybe doesn’t give away the entire program in a few words. I appropriated a song title written by the main (besides me) character of my book. And didn’t plan to fully explain its meaning until part two.

As the schedule evolved – and after a discussion that went something like, “Um, you want allergy/asthma girl to give her talk at the campfire? It’s Tennessee in August. Pollen + smoke might just do me in.” – I wound up on the wrap-around porch of the lodge following the main speaker each evening. Outside but not inhaling smoke. After sunset, so the temperature should be down to an enjoyable level. There is a God!

I did bring two cans of bug spray, so all the humans could be comfortable in the midst of all of God’s creatures.

Now about those main evening speakers. We’re talking people with name recognition, IMDB pages, and Dove award nominations. I considered being intimidated for about half a second, but I’m a fearless female, so let’s do this, I thought.

I knew the speaker for night number two well, but had yet to meet night number one guy. When he arrived during the dinner hour, I got up from whatever church camp fare I was consuming to walk over and introduce myself.

“What are you going to talk about?”

“Grief and loss, but I’ve kept that quiet from most of the people here.”

“Oh! That’s my favorite subject!” he exclaimed with a gigantic smile, continuing on excitedly with a few more thoughts.

Bahahaha! Who are you, and where did you come from???

“I’ll set you up right,” he finished. Which he did. I gave my talk and led some discussion time with a few teary eyes in the group.

I’ve kind of known it for a long time but been better able to articulate it in recent months – grief and loss are universal themes that perhaps are more pervasive than most of us realize or admit. They aren’t the only themes in our lives, but so often loss – of people, things, situations, circumstances – holds us back. Keeps us stuck. And it’s far more complicated than “just getting over it”.

This week my Texas dad passed away. No relation whatsoever. He was someone I worked with during my Corporate America days, especially during the time I traveled so much to Houston I might as well have lived there.

I’ve had surrogate parents in every place away from home I’ve lived (or, in the case of Houston, almost lived). People from work or church who cared about me and my well-being. My Louisiana work dad used to chastise me if my car was still in the parking lot later in the evening than he thought it should be. I still have the book my Texas dad gave me when I finished my short assignment in the Sugarland office. I’m spacing on the title – a humor book, something about spurs and cowboys and cowgirls. I need to see if I can figure out what box it’s in. His passing this week hit me like a ton of bricks. We worked together way before Facebook but had connected there in recent years, once in a blue moon commenting on each other’s posts and sending birthday wishes.

I remember introducing him to the term “comfort food” on the one day I’ve ever experienced a grief counselor being summoned to my workplace. I started my morning with a visit for allergy shots to our company nurse practitioner in West Houston. I said I traveled there frequently – so much I sometimes just took my vials of allergy serum to Mary on extended stays. She had relocated from West Virginia, where I was based, and actually remembered me from my pre-employment physical several years prior. She was so super nice and caring, even giving me an Epipen (for free!) because, “Sometimes when traveling people are more prone to allergic reactions.”

When I arrived at her office park, I noticed security in the parking lot keeping a closer eye than usual on me, but I didn’t think anything of it. Inside the building, though, there was a paper sign taped to her door indicating the office was closed that day.

I drove back to Sugarland and soon discovered why. Mary had been found shot dead in her car, not far from her office.

What?!?

As details emerged over the weeks that followed, law enforcement believed it was a case of mistaken identity, as she shared a name with a woman who was a target in an unrelated matter. As far as I know, her killer was never found.

Everyone in the office was summoned to the conference room to be informed of what was known at the time and for a group discussion with the grief counselor. Resources were offered for anyone who felt they wanted to partake. After that punch in the gut, little if any work was going to get done, so I suggested lunch at Marie Callender’s nearby for anyone who wanted to join.

I try to eat healthy most of the time, but chicken pot pie and some of the best cornbread out there was called for. (Hey, I had a salad, too.) I have no idea if Marie Callendar’s has expanded out of the West and Southwest, but if you’re familiar only with their frozen meals … the restaurant is much better.

Comfort food. I’m sure there’s a scientific explanation for why carbs feel so good in times of stress, grief, and loss. (Dopamine, serotonin, etc.)

I really didn’t (and don’t) intend for this entire site to be about grief and loss, but sometimes that’s what’s going on and sometimes that’s where people are stuck.

What are your thoughts?