My friend Lori and I have gone to Women's Conference together a few times and have loved the time together learning and serving, so we were both very disappointed when we couldn't go last year because I was in the Middle East. Well, Lori was pretty surprised when I called to ask her if she could make arrangements to go this year.
The conference was wonderful, as always, but this year both Lori and I took things a little more slowly and thoughtfully. We kind of plodded our way through, so to speak. Other years we have raced to get into lines for the more popular classes and worn ourselves out with strategizing and squeezing every last drop of opportunity out of the two days. This time we promised ourselves we were just going to enjoy our time together and let the experience happen a little more naturally. I think our ages and our health have forced us to come up with this new plan, but I really think it worked.
Lori is really quite talented!
My favorite classes had to do with having a merry heart, dealing with depression, and cultivating trust in marriage. Both Lori and I felt the need to laugh as much as possible, so we gravitated toward the more hopeful class titles and let all the 20 and 30 year olds attend the supermom guilt-ridden lectures.
This is the all important Women's Conference Bag.
The class on dealing with depression was the most helpful and meaningful one for me. It was kind of a miracle that we went because I hadn't noticed it listed in the schedule, but Lori did at the last minute, so we went. The two psychologists who spoke were very positive, and I came away from the class with a lot of hope and some great resources I am already using. As we were leaving the auditorium where the class was held there was a young woman sitting on the very top row crying. She was all curled up and truly in pain. I can only imagine what she has been through and what the class brought up for her. I couldn't just let her sit there and cry alone, so I asked Lori to wait. I climbed the stairs and asked her if I could give her a hug. Her cries turned to gasps and she allowed me to hug her. She didn't talk. She just kept crying, but she wasn't alone. I asked her if I could help, but she just shook her head. I still think about her and pray for her. I hope that the presenters were able to talk to her after I left.
Kristy entertained me while shopping.