Weeks ago, one of my colleagues suggested that we go on a retreat. It sounded wonderful, but I thought it might be impossible. Spring is an incredibly busy time at work. Would we ever be able to step away?
We picked a possible day to go, but I wasn’t sure it would happen.
Something would pop up—a meeting or a project or a crisis of some kind. Someone would get sick. Someone would realize they just couldn’t take a day away from regular life. But as we inched closer and closer, I grew more and more hopeful.
When the charger for my work laptop stopped working the night before, I had to laugh. I couldn’t work if I wanted to. God really wanted me to take the day for me and for Him.
Preparing to Receive the Spirit
From the early days of planning the retreat, one of my friends had suggested that we should pray for peace in Ukraine. We immediately agreed.
Once we selected a day—the only day I could find that I thought might work—I looked to see whose feast day it was, and I saw that it was St. Julie Billiart’s. That gave me chills because—though I didn’t know much about St. Julie Billiart—I remembered she was associated with sunflowers, the national flower of Ukraine.
“Be like the sunflower that follows every movement of the sun, and keep your eyes always turned towards our good God,” she is quoted as saying. I loved that she would be with us as we prayed for peace in Ukraine. And, what better line to have in mind for a retreat during the final days of Lent?
I designed holy cards with the quote on them so we would each have a little keepsake afterward.
Then I slipped the cards into bags with snacks, a small blank book, some hand sanitizer, and an empty bottle to collect some holy water. We had decided to go to Emmitsburg, and I knew we would want to bring holy water home. You certainly don’t have to have goody bags for a pilgrimage, but I couldn’t resist creating something to make the day a little more memorable.
Then I prayed it would be a good day—and that the Holy Spirit would be ever-present.
The Adventure Begins
On the morning of our retreat, the sun broke through after days of rain, and we climbed into my van to make a journey to Emmitsburg. We started our day with prayer, entrusting one another with our intentions.
As I drove, I loved how the conversation flowed freely and happily around me, weaving together a tapestry of stories, old and new. And I did plenty of talking, too.
The passengers were my friends even before our journey began, but there is something about sharing that space that brings people closer together. The hourlong drive flew by with plenty of laughter, and soon enough we were parking by a stone wall at the National Shrine Grotto of Our Lady of Lourdes.
Three of us had been to the Grotto before, and two had not. Even though I had been there, though, our time there seemed to be full of a sense of discovery.
The statues gleamed in the sunshine. The quotes, prayers, and poems etched into plaques and stone had a newness even when I had read them before. The water in the spring flowed by. The wispy clouds moved through the sky above us. It felt to me as if God was presenting everything just for us—reaching out to us with gentle signs of His love.
Maybe it was because of all the statues and reminders of our friends in heaven, but I had this very real sense that the saints and angels were accompanying us on this sunny day in the mountains. Each part of the day felt like a gift I was opening for the first time.
A few trees were beginning to bloom, while most branches were still bare—life pulsing within but not yet seen. Nature seemed to be holding its breath as we visited on the eve of Holy Week, but you could also sense that spring and new life were lying in wait.
Carrying People in Prayer
The people we were praying for were very much in my thoughts throughout the day, along with my husband and children. Several times my mind traveled back to my last visit to the Grotto seven or eight years ago with my sons.
They were so young and curious then, as they raced from statue to statue, station to station, mystery to mystery, full of questions and observations.
On this visit, as I slowly climbed the steps to the statues depicting the Crucifixion, I remembered how my little boys had sped to the top of the staircase, shouted a greeting to Jesus, and then sped back down. This visit had a different sense of peaceful and restorative exploration, as we read and prayed and reflected and tried to capture the beauty of the day.
We attended the Mass in the chapel there, and I marveled at how quickly the strangers who were our fellow pilgrims became familiar.
By the end of Mass, we seemed to have a connection to the toddlers with the pigtails, the young mother with the baby, the religious sisters, and the people around us who smiled at us with their eyes at the Sign of Peace.
Time for Tuna
After Mass and more time at the Grotto, we went to have lunch at the Ott House Pub. On the way, I called Fr. Collin Poston, who has written for The Catholic Review too and is the pastor of St. Anthony Shrine and Our Lady of Mount Carmel in Emmitsburg. He and I had never met in person, but I had reached out to him before the visit for restaurant recommendations, and then I invited him to join us. I was so happy he did.
As we sat by the pub’s Easter/Christmas tree, we talked about everything from our parishes to the Orioles and Father’s dog, Otto of the Grotto.
My tuna melt came with Swiss cheese on rye, and it was exceptional. If I hadn’t already written a poem about tuna, I would have been inspired to after that lunch. Maybe everything tastes better with friends when you’re enjoying a sunny Friday together.
A Visit with Mother Seton
A few work tasks intruded after lunch, but only briefly, and we were able to break free to make a visit to the Seton Shrine.
As we were walking through the building on our way to the Basilica, we took a turn down one corridor and found a room full of statues of the Blessed Mother from around the world. I was blown away by the beauty and the sense of seeing Mary depicted in different ways.
The whole day was like that, offering unexpected discoveries or an opportunity to see something familiar with new eyes.
As we walked to the van to head home, it started to rain—a gentle rain. It made me think of the holy water I collected from the Grotto to take home to my family. I felt refreshed and restored in a way I hadn’t known I needed. But God knew.
It has been a busy Lent and maybe even a frantic one. This day, this time, fed and nurtured me. It felt like a long, cool drink for my thirsty soul.
I feel so much more at peace.
A Holy Week Opportunity
As we walk through Holy Week, we will discover many beautiful offerings with services and sacraments and chances to experience God’s grace. It will be impossible to accept every invitation that these days present.
It can be easy for it to feel daunting. You simply cannot do it all. But Holy Week does not need to come with a bucket list.
It’s an opportunity, an invitation, to enter into the story of Jesus’ Passion and connect more deeply with God.
Whether you drive an hour to a mountain shrine, spend time with friends who are also seeking to grow in faith, take an evening walk under the stars, or slip into a church pew, may you discover that God is ready and waiting to show you how much He loves you.
Holy Week, here we come.
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