A few days ago, I was happily ensconced (yes, I use that word) at Crosswinds Church in Pleasanton, California with my friend Rosemary. It was dreary and cold outside, spitting raindrops, but the covered patio was toasty from the overhead heaters. Actually, I was inside and the attendees were outside, looking at me through the glass garage doors. So began both of my two days at the 2017 West Coast Christian Writers Conference (WCCW).
When I signed up back in December, I’d also volunteered to help at the registration table. That kind of stuff is my jam: alphabetizing name tags, sorting alphabetized stations, and handing out alphabetized stuff. Noticing a pattern here? You’d never guess it from my home, but I like organization. I pack in full outfits only after I’ve set the entire outfit out on the bed. Everything jumbled in my purse is there in a certain order or pocket. Please … for the love of my sanity, don’t move stuff from the pockets to be helpful.
Imagine my surprise when, instead of blissfully trotting through the alphabet, I was making signs with Sharpies, running name tags to staff members (and trying to get those ready while they were praying), and then greeting people the second day.
Note: I don’t greet. Let me rephrase that: I’m not a natural greeter. Walmart would fire me. I’m naturally suspicious and only give sidearm hugs to people I don’t know… if I’m forced to.
Here’s the thing: I loved running around like a chicken with its head cut off (sidebar: this does happen due to nerves, folks). I pointed out the bathroom locations. Told Karen Ball the wrong place for the staff meeting (still embarrassed about that!). Tracked down lost lunch stickers. Even in stack-heeled boots, I believe I burned more calories in those two days than in the entire month of February. And getting asked TWICE if I was Rosemary’s sister was stinking fabulous!
Stayed tuned for Part Deux of my WCCW report, where I’ll dive in a bit deeper. My thigh muscles are still recovering.