When Emily invited me to write about my Hutchmoot adventure for Centricity Nation, I didn’t hesitate to say yes. I mean, how hard could it be? No doubt I was going to come away with a ton of stories and some tight, straightforward description of what I did and learned and experienced. Easy, right?

Yeah, not so much.

A week later, I’m sitting at my kitchen table in Florida, not quite sure how tell a story of four days in Nashville that left me quite different and wholly the same. So, like all good stories, I’ll begin from the beginning… like what the heck is a Hutchmoot?

Those who have found their way to Centricity Nation are, I imagine, fans of Andrew Peterson, Jason Gray, or both, and I’d guess you’ve visited, lurked in, or become a devotee to The Rabbit Room. But for those who don’t know the history of our beloved online Oxford pub, it is a website founded and run by Andrew and his brother Pete Peterson and inspired by the place where the Inklings – C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkein, and other friends — would meet to share stories and enjoy friendship. Since 2007, the Petersons and a number of friends have shared their insights on the intersections of music and storytelling with redemption and the ultimate Story while helping each other along in their artistic endeavors. Somewhere along the way, The Rabbit Room developed a thriving online community of creators and appreciators alike, and in 2010, they hosted their first real world gathering at The Church of the Redeemer in Nashville, TN.

Hutchmoot, that weekend conference/retreat with a funny name, has now become a true flesh-and-blood manifestation of Rabbit Room culture and community. Hovering at just over 100 participants, lovers of books, music, beauty and truth convene once a year not to workshop or network or learn how to “make it” in a creative industry. They just gather, drawn moth-like to some bright truth.

I was so sad to miss the first one. Something told me I needed to go, even though I wasn’t exactly sure what I was missing. So when I saw the announcement back in February, I only second guessed a minute before claiming my spot. (Good thing too, because it sold out in less than 6 hours!) With no clue what it would involve, how I’d get there, or even what life was going to hold six months later, I took the leap.

Skip ahead to September 22nd, the day I pulled a borrowed Ford Fusion with Michigan license plates into a church parking lot far from home and felt that familiar panic showing up with me. Though I’d been eager to get there, something about walking into that place for the first time triggered every held-back neurotic fear. Why was I there? Why not someone more deserving? I’m not an accomplished artist. Sure, I love to write, but I write web articles and a haphazard blog, scribble poems in notebooks, and have zero musical skill. (Oh, and I work in radio.)

Thankfully, the fears didn’t make it past the dining room. With a plate full of food as delicious as it was beautiful and a place at the table among other “new kids,” I knew it would be okay. And later that evening, as Andrew Peterson closed a Square Pegs and Friends concert with “Many Roads,” an assuring whisper settled in my heart like a sigh at the end of a long day:

“You belong.”

It would take far too many words to describe it all. There were sessions by Rabbit Room writers, but they were less like educational lectures and more like conversations about the art that moves us. We talked about falling into the mystery of songwriting, learning to love poetry, and seeing God’s work of redemption happening in every creative act. Friday night, we celebrated the release of Jason Gray’s new album A Way to See in the Dark — and it was just that, a celebration among friends instead of just another concert. Saturday, Sally Lloyd-Jones, author of The Jesus Storybook Bible, spoke wisely and kindly about the childlike spirit, being open to mystery and willing to enter a story and let it do its work, then the night closed with Rabbit Room writers and guests sharing their own stories, some touching, some hilarious.

And day after day, living alongside this community, I couldn’t shake the peace, the warmth, and the sense that we all belonged to something bigger, that we all have our stories to tell, that creativity is a holy thing and essential to a wonder-filled life. I knew these things before the weekend started. I’ve known them for a while. Little by little though, I found myself reminded at every turn.

Sunday afternoon, we gathered one last bittersweet time in the sanctuary. Andrew Peterson delivered the final address and thanks, then opened the floor for anyone who wanted to share how Hutchmoot had done its work. At first, there was hesitation, but soon people stood to share the stories, often through laughter or tears, and similar sentiments echoed again and again: love, beauty, belonging, hope.

This might have gone on all day, but a final prayer was said, we sang the Doxology together, and then…. it was done.

For a moment, no one moved. Then slowly, we gathered ourselves, said goodbyes, and prepared to go our own roads home. I lingered a bit, still meeting new people, confirming names of friends to look up on Facebook, and making sure to thank any Hutchmoot staff or volunteer I could find. A part of me didn’t want to leave, but there was another part that longed for home, only with a new perspective and a fresh reminder to look for the truth and beauty around me, with a heart wide open to receive it.

So what is a Hutchmoot? I’m still not so sure. But it sure felt like home, belonging, a place to step out of the stream of the world and “sink into all that matters,” as another AP song says. I imagine the Inklings would be proud of how far our little virtual pub has come, no matter what table we gather around.