Re-Do This For Me, My Brother, & Let Not My (Or Your) Experience Be Anything Other Than My (Your) Very Own (Part 2)

Part 1 can be found here.

Another Samson Society "Men's Intensive" weekend just wrapped up in rural Holmes County, MS today.  I drove out there this afternoon to retrieve one of the attendees who needed a lift to JAN for a flight out.  This was the exact time of year I attended a "Deer Camp" weekend - at that exact location - back in 2014.  During the few minutes I was there this afternoon, I was able to see firsthand how the compound's many expansions have paid dividends relative bolstering a true sense of place.  There's now a sizable bathhouse, a lovely, covered seating area, and an impressive multi-purpose space (under construction, but very close to completion).  As such, this venue truly is maturing into more of a proper religious retreat center, relative to its amenities and functionality, versus coming across more as a franchise location for the Branch Davidians.  

The Samson guy I chaperoned to JAN was fast asleep within 15 minutes of our car ride out.  His head fell forward firstly, but eventually, he leaned back and snoozed quietly there in the passenger seat.  Today's steady precipitation had saturated the roadways.  As such, my Toyota cocooned his lean, still frame as the wipers repetitively cleared the windshield over the course of the hour drive.  

I couldn't help but be reminded of my own departure from that same place back in February of '14.  As a sort of benediction, the group of +/-30 men had been asked by Mr. Phil Hardin to identify an object to take with us that would serve as a reminder of why we'd come to the retreat.  I hastily chose a Wendy's restaurant kid's cup (litter) and announced (in turn) that it represented my "inner boy" who I was determined to now seek out intentionally.  I distinctly remember nonchalantly discarding that cup upon my return home in reflection of my pessimistic future outlook.  

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What remains in my mind, even after today's revisit, is how out of place that rural Holmes County venue made / makes me feel.  And of course, that's due to the impression it made all those years ago, during a time in my life when I was suffering tremendously.  

That emotional hijacking that Rob was experiencing (due to my September '13 job loss) took every fiber of my being to keep from overwhelming me.  I liken it to a swarm of killer bees that I was constantly having to flee from, yet that I could never completely outrun.  Therefore, I had nothing to spare of myself in regard to gratitude or serendipity.  Hence, I only saw black & white during this suffering.  And it was that polarized outlook which reliably stamped (toxified) my vision of this place permanently. 

And that sucks, but it also speaks to just how hopelessly shitty things were for Rob back then.  

It truly serves me, in a very profound way, as an Ebenezer.