Meet me in St. Louis; Part I

Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him. Isaiah 64:4

This past week was an interesting one. Nothing worked out the way I’d planned, not one thing.  But, you know what? It turned out even better - better than I would have expected or imagined. But to get to the place I was going I had to learn to take an overwhelming situation one step at a time.

Monday found me packing to go to a faith and writing workshop at Concordia in Seward, NE. I have to admit I was pretty excited. Getting away for a few days to be something besides mommy sounded wonderful. Not only that, but I would have the opportunity to work on a craft that brings me so much pleasure – writing.  

Late afternoon I headed to my office and began to pack up my computer as well as the packet of information describing details of the workshop; the schedule, location, living accomodations, etc. As I was looking at a map of the campus my eyes strayed to the top line of the paper.  That’s when I noticed it.  A big noticed it – a notice that made my heart stop beating. Have I mentioned that the workshop was to take place at Concordia in Seward? It turns out I was wrong. The conference wasn’t in Seward, Ne. It was at Concorida all right, but not the one I was thinking of. Nope, this class was in St. Louis, on Corcordia’s Seminary campus. You may wonder how I could have missed that tiny little detail. Your guess is as good as mine, but I kinda wonder if all along this was a God thing.  You see, if I would have known when I registered for the class that it would be in St. Louis, I wouldn’t have signed up. Now it was too late. I’d already paid for the class.

Shaking my head, I stared at the page, hoping against hope that what I’d just read was wrong. In a panicked state I called my husband. “Well, Hon,” I started out, “I guess I’m not going to this workshop after all. “Why?” he seemed confused, “What happened?” “Oh, just one minor detail,” I responded, “The conference isn’t in Seward. It’s in St. Louis.”  His response was almost immediate, “Well, let’s see what flight we can get you on.” ‘What? Are you kidding me,’ I thought. But my husband persisted. He promised to look up flights and encouraged me to do the same. We hung up, did some research, and found a direct flight from Omaha to St. Louis. It would get me to the workshop a little late, but better late than never, right? Right.

I’ll admit that there was a BIG part of me that did not want to do this - fly on an airplane to a city I’d never visited. Here I was a stay-at-home-mom who hadn’t traveled by myself in years. Now I was being challenged to step out of my comfort zone, and I didn’t like it – not one bit. At that moment I decided something very important. The only way I was going to make this trip would be to take it one step at a time; beginning with the step of packing my suitcase.

My husband got me through step two - driving me to the airport where I hugged and kissed my family good-bye. Then gathering up my luggage, I took a deep breath and walked into the airport ready to face the next step. ‘St Louis here I come,’ I thought, ‘Ready or not.’