I have just come back from a weekend in Wales with 14 other Christian women. I was touched by how we cared for one another's vulnerability, and shared tenderly with one another, learning to listen to what lay behind the words themselves. It felt like God was listening to, was there in the conversations and the quietness.

I felt so close to God, with a really quiet spirit. Felt closer to call and vocation, and pure in that calling. Felt an overflow of joy and love.

Each bedroom was named after a Christian. Mine was Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I read the books on the shelf about him: how we are called to be Christ in the world. The eucharist was deeply moving too. I felt alive this weekend, felt quietened and respondent to God. The way of the cross, and the way of Jesus Christ - in this world - is how I find my truth about myself. It is death and burial and it is life shared with Him.