From the Rector…
Last week, I spent time on retreat with friends from seminary. Each year, we gather somewhere to laugh and talk, pray, and share how we’re growing in ministry. This year, we met in Highlands, North Carolina, with the theme: Cultivating Joy. And cultivate joy we did!
Every morning began with a bit of yoga, followed by meditation and journaling. Then we set out to find our joy.
Our first stop was the Nantahala River, where we went rafting with a guide who turned out to be from Selma—because, somehow, all roads lead back to Selma! Richette was two years ahead of me at Selma High. We hadn’t known each other then, though she did know my sister-in-law. Still, what a small world—to have a river guide from my hometown.
We had a grand time on the Nantahala. The rapids were only Class III—not too intense—so we weren’t too worried about falling out of the raft, and we had plenty of chances to float and enjoy the stunning scenery. The water was ice cold. The trees leaned in over the river, their branches brushing our heads and dropping mimosa blooms on us. Their canopy shaded us from the sun and muffled the noise of civilization. We left the river half-soaked, hearts full of joy.
On the second day, we tackled zip lining at Highlands Aerial Park and tried the Mountain Coaster. While I’ve been rafting before, I had never done either of these—and I’ll admit I was hesitant. The others were all in, so I followed along. I paid extra attention to the safety video and asked the guides several questions.
Once we were geared up but before we began, I asked my friends what the goal was. Was the fun in the speed or in the views? Should I be looking up or down? They all rolled their eyes and said, “The goal is to have fun!” I pressed further—because, as you might be realizing, I’m not naturally good at just having fun—and asked what made it enjoyable for them. They didn’t have a clear answer. When I asked the guides, they said the experience gave them a thrill and sense of exhilaration they didn’t get anywhere else.
Still, no one could tell me what I was supposed to do to enjoy it. The best advice I got was: “Just go with it.” So I did.
Our first zip line was a “bunny” line—short and not too high. I started to build confidence but was still curious (and slightly anxious) about braking—how it worked and how to control my body and speed. For the next three lines, I focused hard on braking—trying to get the timing and technique right. I never quite mastered it. Then came the fifth line: the tallest and longest—250 feet above the ground and a quarter mile across. As I zipped through the air, I was mesmerized by the view of the Carolina, Georgia, and Tennessee mountains. I didn’t want the ride to end, so I subconsciously tapped the brake just to linger in the moment.
Of course, that meant I didn’t quite make it to the platform. But in that moment, I realized something important: my fixation on braking wasn’t really about fear or safety—it was a metaphor for my own resistance to letting go and having fun. I’ve always valued learning, praying, and working. But enjoying life purely for the sake of enjoyment? That’s something I struggle with.
Flying through the air, seeing God’s creation from above, feeling the wind on my face and the weightlessness of my body—it was pure joy.
The next line was the fastest one. I stepped off the platform, let go of the brake, leaned back—and flew. It was exhilarating.
I was having fun.
And I was cultivating joy.
Light and Life,
Candice Frazer+