Sandra Hubbard

I’ve never thought of myself as a Christian women’s retreat kind of girl.

I had images of women around a campfire sing Kumbaya, My Lord and holding hands – nope, not for me.

So when an invitation to attend one came, I quickly declined, seven times to be exact.

The idea of spending a weekend with a hundred women I didn’t know gripped my shy, insecure self with anxiety and dread.

But on the eighth invite I caved and agreed to go (extremely reluctantly).

By that time I was spiritually malnourished and emotionally exhausted wallowing in pity, bitterness, brokenness and resentment.

I was fighting with addictions and inner turmoil and they were winning.

Only two days before leaving for said retreat I had a complete meltdown in a public bathroom, sobbing and on my knees crying out to a God I’d long since abandoned and given up on and certain He’d given up on me too.

It’s funny and ironic that I said yes to the eighth invitation.

Why?

Because eight is the Biblical number that represents a new beginning, a new creation, a crossing over from death to life.

And I am proof.

Boarding the bus to go to the campground I sat quietly and cried the entire time.

How had it come to this?

A grown woman on a crowded bus of strangers silently begging for her mommy to come get her? I felt helpless and completely ridiculous.

Looking back I see that weekend was God’s divine working, a compassionate maneuver to salvage a wrecked soul and heal a wounded heart and that is exactly what He did.

Turns out, there were no campfire songs but simply a room full of women who at some point felt exactly as I did, scared, hopeless and ashamed.

The women who’d attended retreats in the past were now there as supportive encouragers and this without an ounce of judgment, criticism or condemnation.

I cannot recall ever feeling so loved by so many and for three days they provided me a safe shelter and sacred space to heal.

I walked onto that campground a distraught, distrustful mess and left a hopeful, powerful miracle.

And God wasn’t mad at me after all. But He did wait on me and for that I am forever grateful.

I returned home a changed woman and as they say the rest is history and in my case it literally is His Story.

In my writing and working my cosmetic clients I try to be extremely transparent about who I am and that includes my past.

My past now fuels my present with purpose while serving as a marvelous reminder of God’s patience, faithfulness and goodness.

Should you be so fortunate to be invited to a women’s retreat, I encourage you to say yes – even it takes eight invitations to get you there.

To the wonderful Tres Dias community, thank you.

To my mom and my sister who patiently provided me seven attempts to say no yet didn’t give up, a huge thank you.

Without your loving persistence, I shudder to think where I would’ve ended up.

Yes every woman is worthy of all Christ has to offer.

No, it doesn’t take a retreat to accept His gifts and offerings.

But for this girl, it did.

I’m far from perfect. Some days I stumble. Other days I fall flat on my face and occasionally I shine.

As the hymn goes – To God be the glory. Great things He has done!