Getaway With God Is A Fabulous Book For Every Women

One of my favorite things to do is take off on a weekend with friends and go to a retreat for women and spend time in the Word and in fellowship. I learn so much then. But I have never taken off by myself for a retreat just with God.

This book is something that I wish I had read years ago. I try to spend as much time as I can alone with God, but not in such a dedicated way as Letitia recommends. She gives you the reason why something like a retreat away alone to spend time with God is important, how to do it, suggestions on where to go, and more.

Letitia draws you in, like an old friend, and shows you how these special times can help you grow tremendously and to learn to relax in God's presence! This is a wonderful book and I highly recommend it to you!

About the book:
What if a simple day away could transform your life?

Does spending time with God sound like just one more thing to check off an ever-increasing to-do list? How are you supposed to fit in anything that threatens to be more time-consuming? Too often there's simply no room to experience the intimacy, grace, and peace that God offers us.

Getaway with God does more than invite you to step away from life's pressures to take a personal retreat. It shows you exactly why you must---for your sake and for your family's.

With grace and warmth, Letitia Suk provides step-by-step guidance and the necessary tools to enable any woman on any budget to plan time away, whether it's a quick, half-day break or a weeklong time of restoration. You'll find detailed steps for preparation, including descriptions of different kinds of retreats and how to choose the best one for you, and you'll learn ways to bring the renewal you experience home with you. Practical appendixes identify retreat centers nationwide and provide exercises and prayers to kick-start your getaway with God.

No matter what your season in life, the time for retreat is now!

 Purchase a copy: http://bit.ly/2gCczSG

About the author:
Letitia Suk invites women to chase the Intentional life. She writes and speaks of God's renewal and

restoration and offers platters of hope to women in each season of life. Tish is also a personal retreat guide and life coach in the Chicago area and moonlights as a hospital chaplain. You might run into her walking by Lake Michigan, browsing resale shops, or making up a new tradition. She blogs at hopeforthebest.org and is also the author of Rhythms of Renewal.

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This reviewer received the product free or at a discounted price in order to bring you an honest review. No other form of compensation was given. All opinions are those of the reviewer.

Incessant Divagation

“CAMP WAKA WAKA” 

by Rick Jones, Husband of the Minister's Wife

When I told you about my wife's annual pilgrimage to a women's retreat at Camp Waka Waka in Michigan [shameless promotion for last week's column], I mentioned that I wasn't using the camp's real name. But I didn't make up the name “Waka Waka” when writing the article. It came about years ago because of a prayer request at church and because my memory's not very good.

Like many camps, this one sets aside the summer weeks for kids, and had invented an “Indian-sounding” name that would appeal to youngsters. Yes, I know, that kind of thing is considered politically incorrect today, but back then, when the campground was founded, Native Americans were often called “Redskins” and were apparently a bit more thick-skinned, as in, harder to offend. I say that as someone who grew up playing cowboys and Indians, in an area where most of us were just as willing to be Indians as cowboys. Nobody cared which side won as long as, at some point, we quit relying on imaginary bullets and arrows and started battling up close and personal. I was also a Washington Redskins fan back when NFL rules didn't favor the passing game so much and my team had the “hogs” on the front line. So I associate yelling “hogs” and “Redskins” with cheering on winning warriors.

Anyway, the camp's name was actually something like “Ao-Weh-Taka”. And as hard as I tried, I couldn't get it right. “A-One-On-A-Taco”, I'd say, or wait for Lois to say it right and respond “Gesundheit”. I suppose I could have tried harder – but then, I wouldn't have this story to tell you and right now you'd be reading about why I still read comics books [shameless promotion for next week's article].

Lois and some friends from Goodold Baptist Church had not yet returned from camp as we were meeting one Sunday night. During the time we shared prayer requests, I asked people to pray for those ladies of our congregation. I was saying “. . . as they drive back from --” and suddenly I realized that I had truly forgotten the name of the place! In a slight panic, I blurted out another of the goofy names I had given it, this one inspired by Fozzy Bear from the Muppets – “Camp Waka Waka”.

Some of the people laughed, and we moved on. But when it was time to pray, I called on Barry, who was [1] hard of hearing, and might never have heard the actual name of the camp clearly, and [2] probably had no idea who the Muppets were and didn't get the joke. As he prayed, he included the request, “Lord, protect the ladies coming back from Camp Waka Waka”. I was glad that we observed the tradition of closing our eyes as we prayed, because I think it would be counterproductive for people to see the pastor turning red and struggling to keep from bursting into laughter. I kept silent, and fortunately – or should I say, by the grace of God – since Barry was hard of hearing, he didn't notice the few people who were chuckling.

From that day on, I gave up trying to learn the true name of the camp; now I always refer to it as “Camp Waka Waka”.

Incessant Divagation

LOIS GOES TO CAMP 

by Rick Jones, Husband of the Minister's Wife

It's that time of year again ; Lois is away at Camp Waka Waka. She goes with friends to a women's retreat in Michigan. This event has become almost like a holiday for us – that is, it involves nearly as many traditions as Christmas does.

Every year we look for ways to raise a little extra cash for Lois's trip to camp. This year [not for the first time] it involved a two family yard sale. That means an annual tradition of sorting through our stuff and deciding what to get rid of. We go through our too-extensive collection of videos. I'll stand at the shelves and read titles that I'm willing to sell, and she'll “yea or nay” them. We've agreed that if one of us says it's a keeper, it stays. After the better part of an hour, we relinquished just four movies. Other yard sale traditions include:

My back being sore for days from hauling boxes to the sale, to the tables, back to the car when it's all done, and to the local Salvation Army donation site;

Late nights pricing items – Lois reminding me that something is “like brand new”, me reminding her that yard sale buyers will only pay yard sale prices;

Lois preparing some really good meals [the other family hosts the sale at their home's location] – this year, homemade barbecued pork, and egg salad; All other meals being based on frozen dinners because we're both so tired from hauling stuff, and sunburned;

Me being in charge of setting up the books, comic books, videos, and music, because most of that stuff used to be mine, then cringing when someone actually buys one of my departing treasures;

Me telling a pre-teen kid to take care of his new comics, some of which are three times as old as he is;

Lois and I agreeing that after all the muscle aches, sunburn, and lack of sleep, this will absolutely be the last yard sale we'll be involved in . . . then putting half of what's left into storage, in case we decide to do “just one more sale” next year.

Is it worth the effort? We do spend two days with a family we like being with, and usually get enough money to cover the cost of camp. The rest of the funds? The change gets put into rolls and deposited in the bank; some cash goes to the collection on the following Sunday at church; and I look like Mister Moneybags because my wallet is bulging with that huge stack of one dollar bills. Two days after the sale was over, I filled the car's gas tank and gave the cashier one $5 bill and twenty-three $1 bills. She was not amused.

Another food-based tradition connected to camp involves beef liver. That's a meat that often elicits very definite opinions. It's not your basic “I can take it or leave it” food. I actually enjoy it. Lois hates it. It's so abhorrent to her that the smell of liver cooking nauseates her. So the week she'll be leaving for camp, I buy my traditional package of beef liver. The night before she leaves, I let it thaw. The day she leaves [in the early morning], I cook and eat the liver for either lunch or supper. This is followed by the “opening of many windows” tradition, to be sure the house is thoroughly aired out before Lois returns.

I also plan on preparing supper that night. She always says she's been re-energized, refreshed, and had a wonderful time. Then she collapses on the couch, physically exhausted, and “lets” me haul in her suitcase.

It's an annual tradition.

Oh, and the camp isn't really named “Camp Waka Waka”. Then why call it that? Tune in next week and I'll tell you.