the conference

It’s finally gotten here! I’ve been waiting for this weekend for weeks. I started packing seven days ago, for a one night trip. I didn’t want to forget anything! I had so many clothes I wanted to wear, and so few hours to wear them in. I brought changes for the trip down, the evening presentation, dinner, breakfast, the next day’s seminar, intermission, lunch and going home. (Some of these women may never see me again and I wanted them to know the size of my wardrobe!) In addition to my clothes I had to pack the correct makeup colors, and a variety of jewelry and hats to enhance the various looks. We had to rent a U-haul just for my luggage.

At last, take off. Wait! Someone needed to go the restroom first,someone at the back of the van. We had been sitting here for forty five minutes loading up and she just now realized, after finishing off a bottle of water, we’d be on the road for hours. I wanted to ask her her age, she looked old enough to make smart decisions, this is where looks are deceiving!

When we ran out of legitimate delays, we took off. A van full of women on their way to the Women of Faith conference. Praise the lord and pass the blessings. Yahoo. I tried to psyche myself up. I’ve been losing my faith fast lately due to my husband, Fred’s verbal assaults. Every interaction he’d had with me lately led me to believe I was unworthy of his love and attention.

My gosh, if I can’t be accepted by someone that sees me daily, how can a holy God love me? If I couldn’t do anything earthly right how could I do anything heavenly right, like getting saved?
Along the way, we played road games. The best one was the scavenger hunt, looking for items on a list the trip coordinator prepared. We crossed off bridges, farms, silos, men in boots, ponds, road kill, the letter Q on a license plate. We had a hard time finding a police car (we kept our
eyes open for donut shops, isn’t that where they meet for breaks?) Come on, don’t they always single out women drivers! And this was a van loaded with women drivers(one disignated driver and nine back seat drivers)! Surely one would turn on its lights and come speeding after us eventually, with donut crumbs on his chin. Some women crossed “deer” off when they passed John Deer tractors. I went for it. My friend, Giggles, (I hope you can guess how she got her nickname!) was holding out for the real thing. It wouldn’t happen unless a truck passed us with one on the hood.

During the road games when I felt everyone’s attention was diverted I pulled out my reading material. I had been wrong about being discreet because someone yelled, “Woman reading a book!” And everyone read the list to see if they could check off another item. Woman reading a book was not on the list.

I had been hit hard these past few months (two hundred and forty months to be exact) by Satan’s attacks as he used Fred’s body, specifically his mouth, and I needed the encouragement this book advertised. Books offer great sources of economical counseling, providing you get a good one. I had stumbled on this particular book when I was asking God for help (again). I guess I had gone to him so much he had gotten tired of my repeated pleas, pulled me by the leash to the bookstand at the grocery store and, with his hands on my temples, aimed my head and eyes to the cover of this book. Talk about guidance! It was a book about destructive relationships. Oh boy, I knew about destructive relationships, I looked to see if it had been written by me in a previous life. My significant other, had berated me, discredited all my emotions, discounted my existence for years. I hadn’t wanted to upset the boat. During moments of calm sailing I made excuses for his behavior, enabling him to squash my spirit over twenty years. I finally stood up for myself and subtly asked him to leave the house (I had hung his underwear on the bushes in the front yard) When he tried to get in the house, with jockey shorts covered in leaves crammed in his pockets, his key wouldn't work for some reason. I know this because he called me on his cell phone to open the door. I slipped the bill for the locksmith through the window hoping he’d finally get tipped off that he no longer was welcome here.

Despite what I had called a long over do spring cleaning project, Fred had made me feel unchristian, because I wasn't forgiving or long suffering. (He was wrong about that, suffering for twenty years qualified as long suffering and stupid) He made sure he knew I wouldn't make it without him. I wouldn't be able to handle everything on my own. I'd be late to work every day trying to do my chores and his. Well, he was absolutely .....wrong. God had given me the strength to do all things through him, things like getting the trash out, rounding up the dogs, making the bed , washing the breakfast dishes and getting to work on time. I slept and digested my food better. The bags under my eyes vanished. But God hadn’t convinced me he still loved me, that I was worthy to be called a Christian.

When I'd read all I could absorb for the moment I slipped the book, surreptitiously, (yes, that's a word) back into my carry on.

"Can I see that?" my seat partner asked. I was aware of her present circumstances; she had just broken loose from a dominating boyfriend.

"Sure."

Then from the back seat, "When she's done can I see it also." asked a young college student being manipulated by a "jerk". Obviously the thirst for higher learning doesn't always cover wise partner choosing skills. Apparently three of us with issues had all been placed in the same van. Our ages ran from twenty to thirty eight to...to...Okay, I'm fifty two darn it! But I look well preserved; I ought to with all the salt I use. Wrinkles don't show when you retain gallons of water! These two women had been lusting after my book from the moment I pulled it into my lap. They had hurts to heal also. Kindred spirits. I had no idea how wide spread misery was. Abuse is something people endure behind closed doors and fake smiles, in shame.

We arrived at our destination just in time to unload the car and get to the convention center.
The conference’s theme was “Infinite Grace” and it was incomparable to anything secular. Women. Women. Women as far as the eye could see. Down in front of the stage and as far as the nose bleed third tier level balcony. Thousands. And all were quiet. All were listening to the eloquent speakers. Speakers who knew the mind of God. Speakers who had prepared this seminar just for me and two other broken women. I couldn’t count how many times they spoke of verbal abuse and self esteem. How God didn’t wish anyone to be hurt. That he never would abandon his children. Hey, I’m his child. So were my two partners in misery. We were HIS! And he wanted us to be happy! He would never abandon his kids. Man, God had even engineered this conference to be just for us, three wounded prodigal daughters. Healing was starting in my soul as I ordered Satan and his lies behind me. The thousands of other women present had to be green eyed with resentment. I feared retaliation as I tried to hide the glowing crown of “daughtership” forming above my head. No one noticed! They were all too busy paying attention to the speakers, I don’t know why, as obviously the whole message was only for me and my friends!

During intermission we got up to stretch our legs. (And no, I hadn’t changed clothes; you know people always bring to many clothes and not enough money when they travel!)The building was loaded on every level and in every nook and cranny with souvenirs, books and tapes to help me remember God’s love. To lift my spirit even higher,(which is scary since I’m afraid of heights!) I had to have everything. I bought the DVD of the program to play for my dad, daughter, son, anyone who I could hog tie and forcefully expose to God’s wisdom. I bought music CDs. I bought t-shirts. I bought books. The symposium had been affordable but I had to hawk my diamond ring to buy all the goodies.

I lingered over the World Vision display long enough to adopt a little girl from Africa. After all, I had been blessed and it was time to pass it on, not hoard it so it would rust and decay. I was a new mother... at fifty two, and it hadn’t hurt my figure one bit giving birth to a nine year old, (my figure had been hurt way before this I couldn’t blame it on her!). God hadn’t forgotten Mildred, a nine year old in a small remote village at the tip of a small insignificant continent on a small globe hanging in a vast universe. He had put her name and history on a table where I would find it. I even got a free tote for sponsoring her. Just what I needed; another tote. It might be my first gift to Mildred…besides the gift of food, medicine, water and an education. Wouldn’t it be something if she rang my doorbell in nine years after high school? Better yet, wouldn’t it be fantastic to hold her hands as we answered the trumpet’s call to board the train to heaven?

The five hour trip home was more joyous than the trip down. We sang hymns the whole way, except during our dinner stop. Religious women love to eat! I did more eating in two days than I do in a week at home. Next week I start my diet again. (I promise! Really! Don’t look at me like that!)

The waiter at our restaurant could tell we had been somewhere celestial; after all we were levitating above our chairs. That gave us a chance to introduce him to our Father. (Maybe that would eliminate the need to tip! Oh darn, it was calculated into our tickets!)

Back in the van as we sang our way home, Giggles yelled out, “There’s someone walking a dog!” No, that’s not a euphemism for anything, that was on our scavenger list, see, it’s right here in black and white, seventh item down in the right hand column, “someone walking a dog.”
No. As we got closer the dog got bigger. It wasn’t a dog. It was a ….deer! Someone at a rest stop was slowing approaching a deer who was standing at full alert, tail straight in the air, head turned at that angle they do to get things in good view. At seventy miles an hour (ten miles over the speed limit and still no police car) we would never know how long the moment between deer and human would last but we realized Giggles had waited for the real thing and there it was! Not a John Deer tractor, but a real deer. We high fived her. She taught us a lesson. Never settle f or anything less than the real thing. I would no longer settle for Satan’s lies. I had waited weeks for this conference to receive the real thing, God’s truths. And his grace. I could never earn Fred’s grace, but guess what; God’s grace is free, nothing to be earned, to all who believe in him. Infinite grace. Infinite; without end. Grace; unmerited favor. Grace without end. Infinite unmerited favor. How many ways can it be stated?

Please join me in a prayer of salvation………………

Isaiah 49:15
John 10:25-29
Eph. 2:8-9
Eph. 5:25-33
1 pet. 5:8-11
1 John 4:17-19