How to write at letter to someone (you don't know) on a retreat

Years and years ago, I wrote a guide on How to Write a Letter to Someone on a Retreat. It has brought more search engine-arrived traffic to my blog than any other post, by far, and I hope it has been helpful.

As I was cleaning up the spam comments, I saw a real comment from someone suggesting I write a How-To on writing a letter to someone one doesn't know who is also on a retreat.

Super hipster photo by MILKOVÍ on Unsplash

This is a common act of service: writing a letter (palanca, as they are called in my circle) to someone on a retreat even when they are a stranger to you. When retreatants are given their packet of letters and they notice letters from people they've never met who are praying for them, they're further surrounded by the Body of Christ. It can been the source of transformation for someone who might not regularly feel that familial Love within the Church.

In my other post on writing retreat letters, I began with a series of questions to figure out how deep you want to go with the person to whom you're writing. Obviously, that's not a step we can take here. Instead, examine yourself and how you can authentically communicate what you know about Christ's message.

1. What's the likelihood that this person had to battle with the Evil One to make it to this retreat? Consider warning them that they might be going through complicated emotions and obstinate during the retreat because the devil doesn't want him or her there. This might help them feel a little relief over the battle going on inside and open their heart a little more.

2. What was your experience when you were on one of these retreats? Give them an anecdote, especially if it's a truthful one about how you didn't necessarily have that giant 'ah-ha' moment that everyone else seemed to feel. Encourage them that the journey to Faith isn't about the seen and the felt.

3. What works of mercy can they employ during the remainder of the retreat? Encourage them to reach out to someone they've never met before or to go on a hike when they really just want to lay on their bed. Challenge them to treat the retreat like a chance to do something differently. They can always go back to "normal" when they get home (little do they know that our Lord will always be working on them).

4. Are they journaling during their time? Enclose a blank piece of paper (and a pencil, if possible) and encourage them to write down some of their thoughts. Tell them that it's okay if the thoughts are rants or if they seem pointless. God can work with that.

5. Obviously, you have to keep this letter slightly general and one-sided, as you don't know this individual. Know that when I received letters during my retreats from people I didn't know, I was reminded about the Body of Christ. We are all in the Communion of Saints and I was privileged to know that someone cared enough about the Church (the people in it) to write to a stranger.

Things to remember:

• Less is more. Lots of words do not always mean more love. You can have a greater impact with carefully chosen, few words.
• Keep in mind that he or she is probably exhausted. Retreats can take it out of you, physically and spiritually. He or she may not know how he or she feels at that point. Assure them that's okay.
• He or she either learned new facts about the faith or are trying to convince himself or herself they haven't learned anything. Assure them that retreats affect people differently.
• The person to whom you are writing may disagree with or dislike something about the faith. Encourage them to ask questions of the priest, if you suspect this is the case. Remind them to remain calm and polite when doing this. Discussion is good, but hostility will produce skewed results.
• Quotes are used so often because smart people pack HUMONGOUS messages in succinct, profound nuggets. Before you start your letter, pick a few quotes or Bible verses that embody what you'd want to hear at a retreat. You may be surprised by what comes out of your pen without aid and may not need to use the quotes/verses... but it doesn't hurt to have them if you need them.

Gluttony in All its Forms

Gluttony has been among the most common of my sins in the last year and half. When I first learned about gluttony as one of the deadly sins, images of the cookie monster and Augustus Gloop waddled through my mind. The downplayed sin appears to be two-dimensional and simple, but it's more invasive and complicated than we like to admit. The Devil has made the Truth about gluttony conveniently opaque and I know I don't love examining it.

*Giggle* "Wait until you see my secret Twizzler drawer!"

Gluttony comes disguised in a myriad of ways (of all of which I am guilty):

• Food, thinking about food, planning for the next meal's food as you're still finishing the bite of this meal, thinking about how you wish you weren't thinking about food, eating food, eating more food, food, food, food.
• Instagram (et al) and digesting as much of other's lives as you can with your neck positioned in a tilted L shape.
• Gossip and indulging in constantly criticizing others.
• Research and unbridled Google searching for answers. I constantly search for answers to medical issues, reasons for why "it must be harder for me than everyone else," and other topics about which I would rather read than take action.
• Working (day job and other hobbies that earn recognition) to the extent that it invades the more important Marian (vs Marthanese) aspects of life. Often this form of gluttony is motivated by seeking praise and promotion (or trophies, ribbons, medals, and other rewards for those swim meets and games kids are participating in on Sunday morning).
• "Freedom" and "finding yourself" - total farces. Simply put, "I was looking outside / as if love would ever want to hide / I'm finding I was wrong" (Matt Maher, Alive Again).

How many other forms of gluttony could we identify? Thousands, probably, because the Devil pushes us to excess in order to drown us in it, distracting us from God.

I could not do better than the padres of Catholic Stuff You Should Know in their episode, "Watchfulness and Addiction." Please go listen to it. 

I will paraphrase the part that broke the barrier for me and made me realize there was a better way to life: our bodies do not have a moral compass. Our minds need to be that moral voice for our bodies. For example, when we're feeling an emotion that typically encourages us to overeat, drink, or gossip to relieve that emotion, our mind has the control to take action and break the cycle. Our bodies will rebel after long periods of time developing that habit ("Hey, I thought this is what we do when X happens?!"), but our mind needs to be that voice of active reason. Our bodies are not in charge.

Lessons We ReReReReLearn

Don't you love the Back to the Future tribute band songs your mind and heart play every once in a while? Every so often I learn something (Praise God!) and then, like a trap door opening on a rickety stage, I drop like a stone, leaving that little cloud of previously learned knowledge floating 5'8" off the ground like a cartoon hat suspended in the air.

Wah.

Do you reinvent the wheel as many times as I do in your faith life? The devil knows just how to get me to fall for those old thought habits. As you can probably pick up from some of my latest posts about growing a family, I've been riding the struggle bus. I keep telling the driver to stop at dark and creepy spots along the bus line, though I've learned my lesson so many times and "know" to avoid them. "Knowledge is power" is a platitud-ious phrase that doesn't tell the whole story.

I can know so many of the things God has taught me, but without the faith to truly accept, apply to, and be patient with God about them in my life, that knowledge is bust. For example, I know God's timing is best. Yet, I keep falling for the Devil's whispers about how much I want to predict when and how our family will grow. In doing so, I'm neglecting to apply that knowledge and it is, therefore, useless to my fragile heart.

I learned this lesson yet again (and I'm praying I open my heart to let it "stick") throughout my day Friday, concluding in Adoration:

1. I spent four hours with four of my favorite children on the planet, trying on the role of Mom. My mind didn't go to pity town at all; I just loved them and realized God gives me so many opportunities to mother in my day.
2. On my way home from our adventures, I received word from a beautiful woman who I know to be similarly facing infertility. She told me God may have answered her prayers (pray for her please!) and my immediate reaction was thanksgiving for the tiny life. Next, I thought about how her pregnancy should turn me to Hope. God works. Period. And He does have a plan for me. Something will happen. In the meantime, I reopened my heart to hope by a crack. He works in a crack.
3. In adoration, I stumbled on the prayerful realization (again) that God's will will be done, whether or not I can be patient for it, so I might as well try to be patient. I have so many other gifts that are "salves" on the wound (kiddos, job, husband, faith life, art).
4. In adoration, I remembered and renewed a transformation prayer I had offered up a few months ago. Non-coincidentally, I offered up this prayer shortly before my latest paid admission for the struggle bus. He is answering my prayerful request for Him to radically transform my heart and life. Even though I know it's currently leading me through pain and suffering, I firmly resolve that I want Him to transform me. I want Him to make me whole, even if that means I have to learn in this way. It's oddly empowering and He's providing that opportunity for me to feel that way.

What lessons are you learning and relearning?