"It's the RECAP, It's the RECAP"

I know this is the Notes section and you were wanting:

a) A deep thought about the growth of music in the ranks of Pentecostaldom

b) An argument that heralds the "new" sacred music over the established hymns (not on your life...I'm not wrestling that tar baby)

c) Something-or-other about music (If I had an "a" and a "b" I guess I should probably have a "c"). But if y'all don't mind I'm gonna recap General Conference since it is still the lingering thought in our world as it was held here in Tampa, Florida. Wednesday night at church we watched the DVD of our choir singing during the Home Missions service Saturday night. For many churches it would be hard to understand how ANYONE from the home church would have missed it, but as Bro Crawford Coon put so eloquently before introducing us (big gulp here) "Most of these have never been to a DISTRICT Conference, let alone a GENERAL CONFERENCE!!" He also went on to tell the audience we bought our robes off of Ebay. Though hilarious, my brother-in-law Anthony Ballestero, the pastor, said he never meant the comment to be used for mass consumption. Oh well, it was sorta funny.

The workers at the SPTF were so nice and accommodating. One of the Forum ushers was so concerned about our ladies walking around in high heels and slipping on any slippery floor from the melting ice below the flooring. He was always walking around with rugs to put down. One of the sound engineers brought us bottled waters he personally bought from the machine during the Ladies Day rehearsal. One security checkpoint attendant remarked that our group was peaceful and non combative. I'm always concerned about our host city and their reaction. I'm also really concerned that we behave in a manner that's befitting.

So I was suppose to have met Kent Curry at some point that week. An easy enough exercise seeing that his wife said he was chained to the PPH booth. Only since the booth was not in the actual St. Pete Time Forum where the services were being held I was not able to meet our glorious leader. Once I hobbled over to the Tampa Convention Center where the booths were, only to be told it was closed at 11 p.m. Another time I came three hours early for church in hopes of checking out the exhibits only to be herded out the door for a another practice session. You see my conference consisted of one tiny room stage left of the platform called (hilariously) Studio 54. Every day I was ushered through Guest Entrance D into what looks like a warehouse until you see snippets of the platform and then into this tiny room with various music equipment, some microphones that haven't been out of that room since the '80's and for some reason a huge Goodyear blimp hanging from the ceiling (probably used for camera work during games). This was literally the room I spent my General Conference. I ate meals there (if you consider a bag of peanuts and room temperature water a meal...well I DID SINCE I NEVER GOT TO EAT all week!), sent text messages to all my friends as to why I would not be going out to eat with them, slept there (in between teaching the tenor and alto their parts) and I would have dressed there had it not been for the Ladies locker room down the hall. Two nights I brought all my stuff and changed in there. Not exactly The Westin but not exactly a truck stop either.

I realize that my diatribe sounds much like complaint. I hear the echoes of your clicking fingertips as you leave a comment about it truly being an honor to serve and to sing for such an auspicious occasion. I don't want to misrepresent myself and sound like a whiner. I am a whiner. I am whining. It was an honor and I am blessed to serve. I am humbled to serve. There is, however, a deep sense of loneliness associated with this type of serving. I have answered several emails and comments from my Myspace from family and friends telling me it was good to see me....on the Jumbotron. I wasn't able to see friends or go out to eat and for a 98% Sanguine that is somewhat tragic. For many home missionaries, missionaries, and those who just don't have the ability to travel and see loved ones very often General Conference is the only time to reconnect or even to see what is going on in the world outside your district. Many times after they finally dismissed the praise singers off the platform I made a lonely trek back to the Westin where my husband's family was waiting with pizza or burgers since it would be too late to go out. During this painful walk in ridiculous high heels I would think about the evening and what could have been better, thank God for what did go well, for the service, for the ability to serve and ask Him to fill the small crater that forms in your soul sometimes after you have given out in ministry. I have heard many times from anointed preachers and singers that they have to cover themselves in prayer after giving out in ministry because they feel so vulnerable. One award winning quiz coach I knew from the West Coast said that whatever text they were studying, the enemy would try to test him in. Any time you avail yourself in this manner you are susceptible to this.

While waiting to the side of the platform, outside Studio 54, I got to see the missionary children and their parents waiting to bring in their flags and take their seat. I got to see men and women we consider our heroes and though Bro Mark Johnston note that they are not necessarily celebrities, they are still highly visible. But before the fabulous lighting illuminated their faces and they put on their required smiles, I saw them pray, I saw the worried looks on their faces as they pointed here and there giving instruction. I saw them hoping that it would all turn out alright. I saw the evening preachers going over their notes. I saw the service coordinators giving last minute instructions. It wasn't glamorous. It was probably the Real General Conference.