When I woke this morning, the heater had kicked in and it was the first light of dawn. The house was still. It felt like Christmas morning, and I perceived something special in the air. That same special-ness of time and anticipation only felt on Christmas morning before the children wake, before I pull together Christmas breakfast, before I embrace another year of overwhelming gratitude. What could it be?
It's conference morning--an occasion that has come to equal Christmas morning. Today, Tony and I will enjoy the day alone. It will be quiet; we will focus without interruption; we'll feel our hearts swell; we'll bask in a flood of truth.
Tomorrow, the newly-marrieds will join us. The atmosphere will turn festive in between the reverence. We'll eat, laugh, joke; we'll discuss the stories and wisdom we've heard. Sunday afternoon at 4:00, we'll once again comment how it went too quickly, like Christmas, and how we can't wait until the next Christmas, the next conference.