Not a Serious Post

I just got home from my trip to SMBI in PA for the women's retreat, and don't have time now for any very serious reflection--only time for one story that tickled my gizzard ever since it happened.  Immediately upon arrival we headed for the registration table where we were to pick up name tags, personalized programs, and lodging assignments.  The gentleman handing things out was personable and efficient and obviously familiar with the place.  He was the husband of one of the committee members.

He welcomed me by name, although we had never met, and read aloud the lodging assignment.  Right there on the same personalized program he was reading from was the title of my three workshops:  "Modesty, a Treasure to Keep."

He read aloud where I was supposed to sleep:  "Stage Left."  Then he added, "The showers are on the stage."

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It was just as he said, but not nearly as horrifying as it sounded.

In the old school facility where the Bible Institute is now located, a stage remains at the front of the gym.  Two long new-looking stairways along the left and right walls of the stage lead to a bedroom at the top of each.  Underneath the upper stairway landing, on the floor level of the stage, a door opens into the bathroom.    The curtain across the front of the stage stays drawn, so the comings and goings between are not visible to those in the gym.

I slept very well in that "stage left" bedroom, and had a good shower in the private bathroom on the stage.

The whole time I was there something niggled in the back of my mind.  I think I remember a story about my brother Myron, in his bathrobe and sandals, chasing an intruder across the wooden gym floor one night during the time he taught at SMBI.  I wondered if he stayed in the same "stage left" room I stayed in.  I'm going to ask him.