I packed the car in the cool of night, blessing each basket of goodies, expressing gratitude for the rewarding task ahead. In the morning I would head to Quaker Knoll Camp on Cowan Lake to offer a retreat on spiritual nurture—my vocation for the past 20 years—for the opening of Wilmington Yearly Meeting (WYM) annual sessions.

I added the small bin of pamphlets last, so the humidity wouldn't curl the pages of the summary of those 20 years. I got gas and bottled water, then a cup of steamy chai for the 40-minute drive past towering corn fields, through small towns, and down the long gravel lane to camp. The bumpy ride triggered memories of dropping off my daughters, first as young campers, eventually as counselors. They appear in group photos lining the dining hall walls.

I’d arrived two hours early to set up in the air-conditioned smaller lodge, though I longed for a less scorching day and to be in the rustic main hall. I moved couches and added folding chairs, lined up the glue guns, and took my time selecting a nesting place for the riot of art materials. When offering a creative project, I like participants to experience an abundance of supplies, a holdover from Artsy Fartsy Saturdays, where I nurtured middle schoolers living in subsidized housing. They rarely experienced abundance or even the opportunity to create.

“Are Quakers always late?” the first to show innocently asked. I wasn’t sure what she meant until I looked at my phone: it was 1 P.M., the time the retreat was to begin. Rain also arrived as people shuffled in, some undercover, others not. So we waited as the room reached capacity, every chair and couch filled. There were “weighty” Quakers and a handful who have mentored me. I was intimidated for a second; Spirit reminded me this is my gift.

After opening worship, when group members responded to a query, I paused as one struggled to answer, getting lost. I nudged Spirit to help me know if and when to intervene. I would later share my mission to preserve the sanctity and safety of small groups for everyone, and knew I had to do it now. When I understood where this person had been headed, I quietly asked a question and rephrased how I thought they were responding to the query. Their eyes lit up, they made a brief comment, and we moved on. I was sure no one noticed.

One of my mentors did and mentioned it later: “What you said wasn't just helpful to the group, it was really helpful to the individual. We struggle with how to handle that in the meeting.” I felt affirmed.

I was also challenged by some of those weighty Quakers when I spoke of “the burden of translation being on the listener” not to dilute a person’s language because it may be meant to challenge the listener. I paused, thanked them for their comments, and moved on, tucking away what struck me as dissonant. When I had time to reflect, I realized I was talking about selfless listening, intended only to accept and hold the person’s experience, not to gain anything from it. A spiritual nurture group is different from worship, though it can be worshipful and we do worship together. Prayerful listening, I believe, has no agenda, not even to find what may be in it for you.

Between large- and small-group sessions, I shared some of the knowledge about spiritual nurture that I have acquired by experience and training. Snippets include:

• Spiritual nurture is an intentional way of tending our inner condition and relationship with Spirit/God by belonging to a small group.
• Nurture group members share deeply and listen to each other's journeys, the peaks and valleys.
• The group experience is balanced by a personal spiritual practice, creating a tension between a contemplative life alone and in community.
• The smaller body offers accompaniment and accountability when we disclose the state of our spiritual lives and practices, pushing us to maintain a practice.
• Reaching this depth with others can expose our wounds when we lift our guard to be vulnerable.
• Safety and accountability are paramount to building trust among members.
• This safe space allows us to share moments of Spirit/God when we remember who we are.
• When we are held and listened to in this way—with no agenda—our souls feel seen and bathed with unconditional love.

While retreat participants gathered in threes to respond to a reading and queries, I fired up glue guns, preparing for making mobiles from gathered and found objects, some natural and others sparkly, using sticks and wooden hoops for the base. The mobiles reinforced the yearly meeting theme of “love as the first motion” with the movement of chosen objects as a reminder of love and Spirit/God.

The room quieted as people sank into the creative space. What emerged was heartening: birds and butterflies dangling; feathers floating alongside bits of driftwood; simple words such as love, family, and thanks centering a piece; old keys tethered to gnarled wood; angels and sunflowers dancing.

Some of those mobiles hung from the doors of the Campus Friends meetinghouse on the Wilmington College campus during a meeting of WYM Ministry and Counsel, worship, and meeting for worship with attention to business.

I’ll be using this retreat as a framework for the spiritual nurture part of the Saturday, November 4 retreat at Cincinnati Friends Meeting (CFM). The morning will center around spiritual nurture and forming groups, then lunch, with an afternoon devoted to exploring our spiritual gifts from a Biblical perspective and use of the enneagram, a spiritual personality tool. Friends are invited to come to one session or the entire day.

For more information on spiritual nurture groups or the November retreat, please contact me, Cathy Barney, CFM Nurturer for Spiritual Growth and Outreach: cathybarney@hotmail.com, 513-638-2738.