8:55 Monday morning, 6/11/07:
I catch up on emails after a full weekend of Franklin Graham Festival activity. I see an email from Willow Creek stating that Sally Morganthalar will be a late-addition to one of the mainstage sessions of their annual Arts Conference. (Morganthalar is the author of Worship Evangelism, on Pastor John's recommended reading list) The conference begins in two days.
8:56: I have a fleeting thought that I would like to hop into the Blazer, crank up my iPod and drive to Chicago for the Arts Conference.
8:56:30: I realize this is one of the dumbest ideas I've ever had. I can barely stand the arts anyway and have been thinking about quitting this job I have at church because even though it's the best job I could hope for, I'm tired of all the work and conflict and discouragement anyway. Besides, if I worked retail at least i'd get a product discount!
8:56:39: I tell Brian my ridiculous idea. He does not think it is ridiculous. I begin to wonder if I should actually do it.
9am - 10am: I browse area hotels for a room. It begins to appear that there is no room in the inn, any inn, anywhere in all of Chicagoland. I remind myself the idea was ridiculous anyway. I remind myself that a mother of four with no money and no hotel room does not plan to go on a roadtrip by herself 13 hours away (if Cleveland and Chicago roads have any mercy at all). I email the owner of a Bed and Breakfast 11 miles away from Willow Creek.
10:30am: The owner calls me. She does have a room available. She graciously agrees to 'pencil me in'. I try to act like I am a sane woman and that the reason I am looking for a room at the last minute is that my important schedule just miraculously opened up and I am able to just flit out to Chicago on a whim. "I have a few other details to look into, but I will confirm the reservation with you by the end of the day" She does not need to know that the details include the fact that I have $0 in my wallet and 4 children who need care for the next 5 days and a husband to convince and a vehicle that is only questionably road worthy.
I go on with the rest of the day as if the idea were ridiculous and not worth thinking on any longer.
6:00pm: Brian and I attend two simultaneous softball games (it's tricky, let me tell you!) played by our 11-year-old and 9-year-old daughters. I had tucked the schedule of the Arts Conference into the paperback I'd brought along to read during the innings-that-never-end. I casually bring up the fact that isn't-it-funny-that-if-I-were-to-attend-the-conference-i'd-have-to-leave-in-about-12 hours! tee hee. Brian says, "Oh, the conference is this week??" And then, God forever bless this beautiful man, he begins making phone calls and working the numbers. I call my mom about money she's given me to pursue this passion. Previously, she'd let me know that she wanted to give me money for something like this, but just needed some advance notice. I ask her if 12 hours is enough notice??
8:30pm: I call the B&B owner and tell her that all the pressing details have been arranged (as if they included things like moving important meetings and arranging for a dog sitter) and that I'll take that room she has and will see her tomorrow night. She has to ask several times what flight I'll be arriving on before she realizes I'm actually going to drive. She asks me how I like my coffee.
more of my diary in next post...
