Imagine That!

I spent two wonderful days in Georgetown, TX speaking to the Texas Baptist Weekday Education Association. The close to 1,000 attendees were nurturing women who deeply love children. The group had hearts as big as the Lone Star State.

The conference theme was entitled, “Imagine That” based of the fabulous Christian song by Mercy Me, “I Can Only Imagine.”

My transporter, Celina, was delightful and drove me to see where I was speaking. Yes, everything is bigger in Texas and proven again when I saw the Georgetown Texas Baptist Church looming in the distance. I toured the education building and from that experience, I knew the sanctuary would be spectacular. I was not disappointed. My little Harmony United Methodist could fit in the church lobby.

As always the fun is connecting with women from all over Texas some with cowgirl hats, big hair and others more understated. We bonded when I told them W. Bush (42) made me an Honorary Texan. I have a proclamation hanging in my office. I knew I had been given a title almost as big as Miss South Carolina. When I went home, I knew what I had to do. I bought a Suburban and got my concealed weapons license.

I enjoyed every second of sharing my presentation. Afterwards, many were dear to make comments and share some of their struggles. One woman thanked me many times over and I got a glimpse into her life. She looked very beaten down and stressed.

I heard some of my favorite colleagues speak the next day. Suzie Humphreys, on the fringe of her seventies is as sharp as a Texas boot spur. Along with her hilarious humor, Suzie throws in a zinger or two just at the right time. A bottom-line, hip-shooting Texan, Suzie tells it like it is.

I love her take on depression. She said if you are going to be depressed, get into it. Call in sick, put on that old terrycloth robe with grape stains on it, complete with non-waterproof mascara on your eyelashes. Then cry. I mean really cry. Then think of more sad stuff and let that mascara run down your face. Top it off with looking in the mirror. In about two hours you will decide, that you are sick of all of this.

Not to act like depression is not a serious condition, Suzie ends her dissertation with being confronted by an audience member at one time who scolded her for making light of this condition. In their conversation following her presentation, Suzie listened to this hurting woman whose husband abandoned her many years ago. Suzie was brave enough to comment, “You are angry at this man. Depression is simply anger turned inward. Do yourself a favor and forgive him.”

After “carrying on” with Suzie sharing speaker tricks and new ideas, I was greeted with a hug from that same stressed woman. For a moment, I did not recognize her. She was different. Her walk was straighter, her face brighter her personality charged. I told her the difference in her look was an amazing transformation.

“I needed this,” was her response. “I need to hear what you-all had to say.”
Messages filled with honesty, encouragement and pure Godly love can change a person’s heart.

Imagine that….

What Happened to the Friendly Skies?

I knew better than to let Thomas book airline tickets to New York City. He will try to get the best deal like he does when he grocery shops at BI-LO. Our pantry looks like a distribution center for Southern Home products.

The airline I fly most often is Delta. I have some status on that airline which comes in handy these days when the dream of the flying experience has become a nightmare.

Thomas called to inform me that he got a fabulous price on an airline I will not disclose that is based out of Charlotte, NC (US hint, hint) through an on-line discount company promoted by the captain of the Starship Enterprise.

I was packed early on the eve of our departure when Thomas casually checked his phone messages to discover that the airline based out of Charlotte cancelled our flight and re-booked us. At 11:30 PM Thomas handed me a slip of adding machine paper with four sets of numbers written on it. “Here are our flights and departure times.” He said. “Make sure our seats are okay.”

Thinking this was no big deal, I cut on my computer to discover it would not work. It just refused to spin the drive and co-operate which led me to try to pull everything up on my phone that has a screen the size of a matchbox. I tried to communicate with Thomas whose only response was the sounds of deep sleep. I wanted to choke him.

I bundled up and made the trip to Thomas’ office to use his computer.

As I typed in the flight numbers, time of departure, etc., the airline based in Charlotte could not find our reservation. I had do the unthinkable and call the airline I will never fly again based in Charlotte. After finally pressing One then Three then Two I was all the way across the world talking to someone I could not understand whose name was Sam. Yeah, right and my name is Janerishikiah.

I finally found our reservation and saw where the Captain of the Starship Enterprise gave us the most desirable seats in front of the exit row which means you will sit like there is a 2X4 piece of plywood nailed to your upper back because the seats do not recline. As I changed our seats to a more comfortable place, a pop-up box informed me that the airline was charging me $14.00 if I did not want to go to a Chiropractor.

Finally, the screen I had been waiting for appeared with “print boarding pass” came forth. BUT as I waited the printer informed me that I would have to go online and buy Magenta Ink or it would not print.

I went to bed at 1:30 AM. So much for packing early so you can get ample sleep.

Upon checking in, because of the financial penalty if your luggage weighs over 50 pounds, I configured that I am restricted to buying items in New York City that must weigh no more than a total of 7 ounces.

So here I sit as I type this on ROW 30 seat F. On Row 29, Seat F, a 350 lb. man is leaning back in a broken reclining seat snoring. God gave Thomas a miracle when the counter agent blessed him with 32A.

I could have gotten 32B but I was detained by the Nazi Diva at the counter since my luggage had to be checked at the Gate and I made the mistake of walking into the airport since it was raining and TSA will not allow me to walk two steps back where my carry on luggage was. The Nazi Diva had to finish flirting with this cute guy in First Class before she jerked my bag off of the cart and hand me my carry-on bag that now has a broken handle.

Beam me up, Scotty.