Wordless.

There must be some way to describe
standing at the podium of my
favorite bookstore,
Reading a chapter and then telling some exclusive stories,
never before told publicly,
a complete sellout of inventory,
150 people in a space made for 40,
two blissful hours of signing messages inside the book I wrote,
talking to people who have followed from day one,
watching my 8-year-old work the room,
watching my 6-year-old sign his precious scrawling autograph on the dedication page,
and praying aloud in a very secular place that God may bless each person in the room, that as they read the story, they will find God and know truth and carry it into their world.
There must be some way to describe it.

But right now, I’m at a loss.

Two Grand

Good news, Bad news, and Extra Points

The good news is that some of you are such beautifully faithful readers that you notice – and very sweetly mourn – when my writing doesn’t show up in your inbox.

So graciously, you tell me your morning coffee tastes less without the pairing of my words.

(And this is unbelievably kind of you.)

The bad news is that I have no idea why this has happened. What misalignment of the stars would stop the email subscription from keeping its promises?

Extra points for those of you who notice the hiccup.

And I wish I could fix it. Stay tuned. There could be more points in it for everyone.

Catalyst One Day: Denver!

 

Oh my goodness. I’m so going to this.

Two of my favorite leaders, one of my favorite events, all happening at my home church.

You should come.

We could sit together.

Don’t forget to use the promo code for the discount: SECC.

My Civic Duty: My Shoes are Too Cute

So far, I’m allowed to stay present on the interwebs. That’s because in virtually dispensable in this process so far.

But if I suddenly stop writing, well you can know that I’ve moved up in the world.

And I’ll relinquish my poetic license so as not to need a jury of my own.

This is democracy in action, people. They just told me that my role as a juror is more important than that of the President of the United States.

(I’m not convinced.)

By the way, I would like to not be the foreperson. Except to hear the judge say, “Madame foreperson, what say you?”

Because that’s pretty much the most beautifully constructed sentence in the history of judicial process.

Oh, wait. Listening… Teresa Wilfred has been dismissed. I think that might be me.

Dang it. And so my civic duty for 2014 is complete.

Must have been the shoes. Too cute for a courtroom.