Oh, my brain.
My brain is teetering on the edge of combustion. There’s been so much to take in over the past few days. It’s all been so good, but so plentiful. So voluminous.
The Storyline Conference was ( ).
I’m still trying to locate adequate words to describe it.
What I can describe in no uncertain terms is God’s faithfulness.
Example #857: I had one very lovely host fall ill on Sunday night, and then a back-up host was also thrown under the weather soon after that! A plague is circling Portland. So when I arrived at the conference on Sunday night I was planning on living it up in the back of the van for as long as necessary, no big deal. But within ten minutes of being there I met two girls from San Diego, one of whom works for Hilton.
You can see where this is going.
After mentioning her employment with Hilton she casually said, “Yeah, so I get free hotel rooms and actually have an extra one for the conference. If you know anyone who needs a place to stay just let me know, haha!”
And that was that. Not only did I receive a place to stay, but I also received the opportunity to work on my non-hermit skills, and consequently made two great friends.
Remember the guy from the bank? “That’s not to say that there won’t be bumps in the road, but I believe that God will put people in your path to provide for you along every step of the way.” He was right. God was there. Every single time I noticed and probably abundantly more that I didn’t even realize.
Another thing I know for certain is that I will never forget what a yellow flag looks like after last night’s exhibition of every penalty in the book game. I had the awesome opportunity to watch the game on the big screen at the Mission Theater, which would have been an even more blissful experience had it not added extra drama to the 18 infractions handed out during the course of 4 unfortunately eventful quarters. I think I’m now a penalized version of Pavlov’s dog, conditioned to flinch at the sight of yellow fabric and the sound of a whistle.
The people around me were friendly, asking me questions that turned from curious to concerned as the game progressed.
“Are you a football fan?”
“Are you from Wisconsin?”
Some guy decided that the final drive of the 4th quarter with the score tied and the Packers in possession would be a good time to hit on me. I shut that down faster than you can say “False Start: Offense” and told him in no uncertain terms that I could not talk to him at that time. I even drew an invisible line between us as an illustration.
If only I were kidding.
In my defense, he really should have known better. Most people had stopped talking to me or looking in my general direction at that point.
More to come on the conference once I can construct a response more coherent than “!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”