retreat

Sacred Places

I never missed a year of camp. It was my life blood through adolescence…waiting each summer to have that glorious mountain top experience of playing praying singing with what amounts to hundreds of people over the years. Over time, the place itself took on a sacred meaning for me. There were the old timber tables that served as our crafts tables. The old shower houses that I helped build at work/study conference; The bench on the side of the mountain that was obscured by brush where we would go at night without flashlights in the darkness of a moonless sierra night.

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