After experiencing the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers
Conference (BRMCWC) three of the past four years, I was disappointed this year
when a schedule conflict with my ‘day job’ prevented me from attending the
conference. As the date drew near, I prayed for revised schedules, divine
intervention, or a return of nasty winter weather to miraculously open the door
that God seemed to have closed.
With less than a week before the conference, God cracked a
window just wide enough for me to leave Wednesday morning, arrive in time for
the awards banquet and return home on Thursday. Some might think spending nine
hours in the car to only enjoy twenty-two hours at the conference – and not
even a single class – would be a questionable investment. However, they would
be mistaken.
Of course, seeing old friends and making new ones is always
a delight, but God opened that narrow window of opportunity because He had a message
for me and some friends at Blue Ridge to serve as His megaphone.
The first message came early Thursday morning in Alton Gansky’s
devotional. (Note to self: Never sleep in and miss the Thursday morning session.)
Al said, “You can’t hit a homerun from the dugout.”
And then He got a little personal. Al mentioned that 70% of
conferees who are asked to submit a proposal or chapters neglect to send them.
You guessed it; I am one of those 70%.
I left BRMCWC 2013 full of energy and good intentions and
several requests for chapters or proposals, but life got in the way. My ‘day
job’ with a new boss, two major projects – both of which culminated with events
scheduled for the Tuesday of the 2014 conference – and a million other excuses,
got in the way. In truth, fear of failure got in the way. After all, if you
never send the proposal, they can never reject you, right? If you never swing
the bat, you can’t strike out.
But you also can’t hit a homerun.
Al swung for the fence and the ball hit me right between the
eyes. When he spoke about the shame of not having tried, I knew God had sent me
all the way from Raleigh to Ridgecrest to call me on my “error.”
But God wasn’t finished.
I was still a little bruised from that beating, when I eased
into a seat in the back to hear Edie’s message. (Note to self: Never cut out
early to beat the traffic and miss the final session.)
Edie spoke explained that a detour is different than a roadblock.
We’ve all come up against detours. We’re cruising along with a particular
destination in mind, when something forces us to take another route. We
wonder if we’ll ever reach our goal; but, as Edie
pointed out, the Navigator may have a different objective.
The work schedule conflict appeared to be a roadblock, but
it was only detour to get me to God’s destination. I wanted to enjoy the entire
conference, and I’m sure that every session would have blessed, inspired, and
educated me. But God’s plan for this year was to send me to hear only the two
specific messages that I desperately needed to hear.
Some might say it was crazy to spend nine hours on the road
in order to spend less than 24 hours at the conference. But we serve a great
God; One who is able to communicate the precise message we need at just the
moment we need it.
