"But I don't want to end my Education Week experience with a class on finances," I argued silently.
I figured it was probably my overactive brain talking anyway, so I marched away from 446 MARB toward the Jesse Knight building without thinking much of it.
Until I had gotten settled in the next class.
I had picked a nice seat, way in the back, where I could juice up my laptop and convince myself that I could find the information from the finance class online. With no internet signal available in this particular room, that approach failed. I couldn't dismiss the nagging feeling I had that maybe I needed to go to that finance class. I was not happy.
As the nice host gave his usual schpeel about moving in toward the center so the latecomers would have a place to sit (this brother's class filled up every night -- he was good), I realized it was now or never. I walked past the instructor apologetically and marched back out into the gorgeous evening.
Right back to 446 MARB. (Ha. Joke's on me. Chalk it up to exercise for the day.)
After sitting for ten minutes, I thought of leaving. After all, I got the handout when I walked in. My stomach was in knots; I couldn't help but wonder what I was missing in the other class (and I've been known to split time between classes when I've been conflicted about which to attend).
But I held on, looking for something perhaps that could give me some reason as to why I felt pressed to come.
I learned a couple of cool things, got information about a great budgeting spreadsheet (you should check it out -- it's a Dave Ramsey special), and felt overall that it was a good class. I figured I'd leave and share the spreadsheet and hope someone could be helped by it.
But as the class ended, I looked over and saw a woman who looked familiar. I did a double-take (or two) and decided I'd take the chance that she was who I thought she was. (I even had a name come to mind.)
She was, indeed...someone from my high school days. Someone I'd never talked to, mind you. Someone who had actually moved away during our high school years.
But we proceeded to chat, and the chatting turned into a heart-to-heart conversation that lasted, er, well, a long time.
Oh, OK, I'll tell you. It lasted four and a half hours. It was as though we'd been friend a long time. (Bonus: We saw seven deer cross the parking lot and street while we talked in her car.)
Interestingly enough, she had planned on going home before this class, but a few things happened and she stayed.
The experience left us both in awe and feeling the Spirit from all that we had explored together. It was amazing.
I really need to learn not to argue with that "voice in my head." I'm glad ultimately He won out.
It's always good to listen, isn't it? (I've done it both ways!)
ReplyDeleteGlad you were able to meet an old friend and share a few hours together.
=)
Oh, yay! I love this kind of miracle.
ReplyDeleteby small and simple (and illogical) things. . .
ReplyDelete