Don't Mess With Texas

My trip to San Antonio was unbelievable and I am exhausted by the pure joy. I haven't quite gathered my thoughts on all that I learned, or wrapped my head around the atmosphere I experienced, but know that the minute the neurons in my brain start firing properly again, you’ll be the first to know.

(More accurately, you'll be the second to know as I have been talking about the weekend nonstop to my husband since I arrived home yesterday. I know that his ears hurt when he left for work this morning, but he’s a doctor, and I’m certain there is some sort of ointment or pill to soothe the ear injuries caused by a wife who talks too much and in run on sentences, all while hand motioning emphatically.)

Until then, here are a few photos from my weekend:

Wendy, Emmy, me and Mandy:

I tried to make my hair really big in Beth's honor but the weather would not cooperate. Texas was so hot that the air singed the ends of my hair and eyelashes the moment I stepped out of the cab.


Here is a photo taken with Amanda Moore Jones, the oldest daughter of Beth Moore:



As I was walking towards Amanda, she looked me straight in the eye and with a bright, familiar smile said, "Hey Joni! How are you?"

While I did respond to her - and in a way that showcased my true, inner DORK which I imagine is not surprising to anyone - it took 4.8 seconds to do so. During those 4.8 seconds, which caused irreparable damage to the aforementioned neurons, the following thoughts rapidly raced through my mind:

-How does she know my name?
-She must know me!
-Wait, the only way she could know me is if her mom has mentioned me.
-Beth Moore mentioned me?!
-That means she must read my blog.
-If she reads my blog, then she knows that I think that she’s my best friend.
-Which means, that she wants to be my best friend too, if she mentioned me to Amanda.
-I AM BETH MOORE’S BEST FRIEND!

-Oh, no.
-I am wearing a name tag.
-That is how Amanda knows my name.
-I still have not responded to her greeting.
-She is beginning to look frightened of me.
-Quick. Think of something to say.

So, of all the normal, less scatterbrained ways I could have responded, I chose to say the following:

“Your blog is NICE.”

That’s it.

Not, “ Hello, it’s nice to meet you too.” Or “I love your mom’s bible studies. Please ask her to call me.” Or even, “You have great hair.”

(Seriously, who describes someone's blog as NICE?!)

Nope, I say only those four words and then continue to look at her IN SILENCE which causes her to glance toward the bodyguard who is supposed to protect her from all us crazies in wedge heels and walking shorts. Fortunately, my friend, Mandy, steps in to rescue me from the AWKWARDNESS, asking, “Would you mind if we took a picture?”

Oh, I wish it weren't true.

We also got the opportunity to meet Travis Cottrell (LOVE HIM) and I was able to momentarily behave as though I had some sense. I think it was because the body guard was giving me the evil eye.



(Dorothy, Coiffed and Joiner, it was a privilege and an honor to experience the weekend with you. The three of you bring me so much joy!)