If I were blogging "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" of the trip to San Antonio, then I guess my last post would have been "The Ugly" -- the part where I didn't necessarily want to show off my nasty underbelly. But to show what God's up to, you have to show what's being cleaned up, right?

So today we'll move on to the only part of the weekend that made me a little sad (i.e., "The Bad"). I didn't get to attend the "Siesta Fiesta" portion of the weekend. There are two reasons for that. One, apparently I live under a rock, so I didn't know about it. (That's what I get for not reading Beth's blog.) The other reason, which would have overridden the Siesta Fiesta anyway, was that a good friend of mine had a significant birthday, and I had to be back in Austin to help her celebrate.

I mean really. Could you possibly say no to this face? No way.

Yes, that's right. Jo turned 29 (or was it 21? I can never remember ages), and I got to be there with her to celebrate out at a friend's ranch, one of my favorite places on earth.

This is her husband Randal admiring the table with her, who set up the whole surprise party. I was so impressed by him! He got a party planner, called lots of people for email addresses to make sure he invited everyone, and even set up a smaller decoy surprise party for the day before (which was her actual birthday) in case anyone slipped up and blabbed the surprise. He hired a band, brought in a bounce house, and had the whole thing on the ranch where there is a creek, a wading pool for the smaller kids, and all sort of food and fun.

This is a man who loves his wife. And Jo is a good friend and has been for ten years (since our church started). So if attending Jo's party was the "Bad" part of the weekend, I'll take it!

Next up: the "Good," i.e., my notes from Beth's talks.

San Antonio Stuff... Part 1

I feel like writing one of those essays, like you'd write in the fall, "What I Did This Summer," only mine would be "What I Learned From Beth Moore in San Antonio This Weekend." I have purposefully kept away from the blogs of others that I know were there because I want to say what I want to say and not be influenced by the thoughts and words of others. I certainly want to know what everyone else thought, but I had to process my own head first, before I could write about it. And I am DYING to know what some of these other people had to say.

Let me start by saying that, unlike a lot of the women there, I wouldn't characterize myself as a huge Beth Moore fan. I've never done one of her studies, and I've read one of her books. I enjoyed it, but I really didn't know what to expect in San Antonio.

Let's just say that Beth goes to 11. If you haven't seen "This is Spinal Tap," and therefore don't get my reference, then go watch it. Or just watch the clip.

The conference was Friday evening from 7 - 9:30, and Saturday morning from 8:30 - noon. I can detail Beth's notes in a later post, but for today I'll talk about what I personally got out of it. Or the biggest chunk of it, anyway.

On Saturday morning, I had forgotten my notebook in the car and walked back out to get it during the worship time. Now, before anyone chastises me for missing Travis -- and I thought Travis was awesome -- I didn't know a single song until the very last one, so worship wasn't that great for me. I didn't figure I was going to be missing much by walking out to the car. As it turns out, it made the weekend for me.

As I walked out, I was praying for the event, for Beth, for the women, for the atmosphere, that God's Spirit would move in the hearts of everyone there. Then my mind wandered a little as I thought about the 10,000 women -- TEN THOUSAND -- that were there. I thought about Beth and her life in the spotlight. I thought about two of the wonderful bloggers that I had met the night before, BooMama and Big Mama. These two ladies had reserved seats on the front row of the floor seating, smack dab in front of the stage, since they blog for LifeWay and this was a LifeWay event. I thought about how they get 200 comments on a blog post and I get maybe 4. And I turned a little green.

Now understand, these are two ladies that I have looked up to for a long time. I love them, I respect them as people and absolutely as bloggers. I have wanted to meet them for a long time. I really don't get starstruck anymore since someone I consider to be a truly stunning musician came to be music director at my church, but in my secret heart of hearts these two are my pretend BFFs. I admit that I envy their blogging success, as much as I've cheered for them as it has happened for them. I admitted it to myself and to God on Saturday morning, and I'll admit it here.

And then on Saturday morning, I straightened my shoulders, and I told God, "I don't want Melanie's call for my life. I don't want Sophie's. God forbid, I don't want Beth Moore's. I want MINE. God, I want Your plan for ME, not for them." I prayed this all the way back in from the car, clutching my notebook.

What do you suppose Beth had to talk about that morning? She told the story of Stephanie Brown-Trafton, the Olympic gold medal winner in discus (and first U.S. women's discus medal winner since 1932). Stephanie grew up idolizing Mary Lou Retton, wearing a Retton leotard in her childhood. That didn't last long, since Stephanie grew to 6' in junior high school. She had to find her own way to be a world-class athlete, and clearly she has, with a stop in basketball along the way. The point of her story was to stop trying to be someone else. And it was the first story she told after God and I had our little talk.

Coincidence? Don't believe in it.

I did stop long enough after the event on Saturday to take a picture with the two Mamas before we all ran off in separate directions. From L-R, it's Boomama, me, and Big Mama (or Sophie, Lisa, and Melanie). Yes, I'm short.

I'm not there yet, but I'm working on accepting being just li'l ol' me, and not BIG SUCCESSFUL BLOGGER. God put me where I am for a reason. I'm certainly blessed to have been in San Antonio this weekend, and it was great to have met these two lovely ladies (and others -- more pics later).

God is good.

Murphy in the Mail?

The story opens with a package my hubby had been anxiously awaiting. It was supposed to come yesterday or today.

Today, he opened our cluster mailbox to discover the exalted key -- the KEY! -- to the parcel box. Huzzah! Today was the day! The package had arrived!

But it was not to be.

He opened the parcel box with great joy, only to find someone else's package. On examining the parcel boxes, he found that there was another key missing and quickly deduced that our mail carrier must have mixed up the keys.

He went to the address to make the package exchange, but no luck: no one was home. Oh well. He was home early. He could be patient. A little. (If you know my hubby, you know his patience doesn't extend far, and he'll be the first to tell you so.)

He went back a little while later. He found the boyfriend of the package owner, who informed him that the homeowner works until 9; he should come back around 9:30pm.

Fine.

He went back at 9:40, and one of her children told him that she was in the shower. Once again, DENIED. Once again, hubby came home with head hung low.

At 10pm, he left the house for the fourth time to retrieve the key -- the EXALTED KEY! This time, he was victorious. Huzzah!

But I'm afraid Murphy works for the U.S. Postal Service. Poor hubby came home empty handed yet again. They key would not turn in the lock. He fetched WD-40 to try to coax the lock. I went with him. We whispered sweet nothings to it, but it did not yield to our overtures.

Defeated, we came back home, and I composed a love note to our mail carrier:

Sigh. Someday our package will come...

The Lowdown on a Mother's Best and Worst Day

I am a bad blogger, for I forgot to take my camera to take Son the Older (hereafter referred to as StO) to college. You will have to rely on my words.

His dorm is the ONE right in the middle of campus, the campus being Texas A&M (WHOOP!). There are many dorms on northside; there are many dorms on southside. There is one in the middle. When we went to unload his things, we found out just how very wise he was to have chosen Hart Hall. Or more correctly, as we walked and drove around later in the day and saw the utter chaos in the other dorm areas, we thanked God (and our son) for his dorm location far from the crowds.

When hubby and I attended A&M, lo these many years ago, Hart was a non-air-conditioned dorm. Yes, you read that correctly. When we were there, the non-AC dorms cost $332 a semester, ladies and gents. Quite the bargain, if you don't mind sleeping in a sauna for portions of the school year.

Two of those dorms were torn down, and the two that remain now have window AC units. I wondered how efficient that would be -- until I walked into StO's room yesterday. Wow -- seriously cold! When I looked at the AC unit, I found it was on the medium setting, and it was also on energy saving. It wasn't even working hard! We were pretty sure we could make it grow icicles on the ceiling if we wanted.

The joys of the 80-year-old dorm are many. I will list them here:

• There have been so many coats of paint that where it is chipped, the thickness is measurable.
• There is a RADIATOR. You folks in the north are used to this; in Texas, it's almost unheard of.
• Because the bunk beds are up against the radiator, the closet door doesn't close.
• They put in electricity after the fact. The wiring is attached to the walls. That's one of the big reasons I wish I'd had my camera.
• There are multiple sets of wiring: the first set of electricity, the set for the AC, and the wiring for the CAT-5 (internet) cable.
• The floors are cement. Not stained concrete, just plain old cement. That's a great way to wake up in the morning, when your feet hit the icy cement. (Remember the super-cold AC? That's some cold cement, boys 'n' girls!) We bought the boy a broom for this floor. Any bets on how soon (if ever) it gets used?

The true joys, of course, are that there is a hundred-year-old (or at least reallyreally old) oak tree right outside his window, and it's a minute-long walk to the MSC (the Memorial Student Center, or the student union building on most campuses). It's less than five minutes by foot to virtually any classroom building where he will have to go. And it was the cheapest dorm on campus.

His roommate -- not a freshman -- is a Fish Camp counselor. You Aggies and/or Texans know what that is, but I'll try to explain for the benefit of anyone else who might not know. Aggie freshmen are known as fish and are given the option to attend Fish Camp, which is an indoctrination into Aggie life and traditions. Hubby and I didn't go (he by choice, since he'd lived in College Station for a couple of years; and me because of financial reasons, being the daughter of a single mom), but it's a great way to be introduced to A&M and what it's all about. StO declined the opportunity, but I'm quite sure his roomie will take care of his lack of knowledge. Son is an introvert; roomie is an extrovert. I hope they will get along.

This is the day that, as a mom, you look forward to and dread in equal measure. Your child has grown up, is flying the coop. So why does it feel like a hole in the middle of my chest, like someone has taken part of me away, removed it? I look forward to the independence and the discovery that college means for him. His life has been pretty sheltered up to now, and I know in many ways he'll discover who he is. I look forward to that for him. But he's my boy, even though he's so much taller than me, and I miss seeing him, even just today. I'm sure that will get worse before it gets better.

And, since someone will ask, I did not cry when I left him. Crowd of guys hanging around and all that. I miss him, though. How long until he runs out of laundry a couple of times and wants to come home to do it here?

I Knew It Would Come to This

But just because you know something is coming doesn't make it any easier.

Today has been spent sorting, packing, cleaning, organizing, shopping, and trying not to think about tomorrow.

This is what's in my kitchen:

It's the last box, with the last few things, and the backpack with Son the Older's shiny new college computer in it.

Who knew that 18 years of existence could be packed into four boxes and a backpack? I sure don't think my mom got off that light. I know she didn't, in fact.

Tomorrow we'll get up and drive to College Station, where we'll move our son into a dorm that wasn't air conditioned when hubby and I went to Texas A&M. Yes, that's barbaric in central Texas. Now there are window units. Hallelujah!

I'm not a crier, but even I might well up a little when it comes time to leave my former baby boy at his new home away from home.

He's such a serious student, my boy. Did I mention he'll be majoring in engineering? You can see here the SERIOUSNESS of the lad leaping off the screen at you, can't you?

That's my boy. I'm so proud.

Gonna Be a Busybusy Week

So... my Taiwanese co-workers are coming to Texas this week. And I have about a thousand things to do before I leave for Houston to meet up with them.

Here are several of the thousand -- complete!

If you were wondering what those beads were for earlier, this is the purpose. Three of my co-workers arriving today are female; two are male. For the men, I made necklaces for wife and daughter for one co-worker and for fiancee for the other. My friend Jo came over to help me today -- thanks, Jo! She is a fabulous jewelry designer, and I was thrilled to have her help.

I will likely be really busy for the rest of the week, trying to show these folks the same kind of great time that they showed me when I was in their part of the world. Have a great week, y'all!

I Didn't Get to Go to Leadership Summit...

But I'm living vicariously through the twitters. Thanks, Les!

https://twitter.com/lesbrown

If you read this much after August 8, you'll have to go back quite a ways to see the content I'm talking about... Les is pretty much broadcasting his notes from the conference. Amazing stuff.

Again, I just love the internet.