I should have packed better clothes for the conference. Everyone else looked so . . . classic. Even the tables outshone me, gleaming with pristine linens, the flicker of candles. Luscious peonies.
With a raised hand, our keynoter invoked silence. Then, with an almost double-dog-dare-ya glint in her eye, she invited us out on a limb. She asked us to hear God speak to each of us, personally . . . in the stillness.
Oh, the pressure. Chairs creaked as we uncrossed our legs, settled our clothing. Eased back.
I felt shy, but so hopeful. [Read more…]