Retreat means getting (far) away

A retreat should be that — a getting away from the familiar world to concentrate on important things. Camp Agape (not agape; it's pronounced A-gah-pay, meaning Christian love) fits that bill. You go to Fuquay-Varina and turn right. Then you get lost. Because I was going there after dark Friday night, I got very lost but finally found the humble little church camp that I had visited about 20 years ago. The 624-acre site is about as far away as you can get from the hustle and bustle of modern life and still be in the greater Triangle area. The Cape Fear River flows through the property, which is on rolling hills covered in thick forests with a few meadows interspersed.

At the direction of our retreat leader, Nancy, we methodically worked our way through the ecclesiastical year and, at the same time, looked within ourselves. We served each other communion. We nailed our sin to a cross, and then we buried the sin in a bucket of dirt. We sang hymns. We listed our gifts. We wrote secret notes to each other.

In the free time we had left, we ate two meals together, hiked around the small lake behind the lodge, and told stories. Some of us tried out the camp's trails. The Cape Fear River was only a short walk away from the lodge. One of the camp's programs is environmental education. Food scraps are composted by the resident earthworms, and camp facilities blend easily with the natural landscape. Although eager to join my wife at a family gathering more than an hour's drive away, I found myself wishing I could linger a while and explore the trails.

A retreat should bring renewal. This one did.