I’m sitting in a hotel room in Orlando, wrapping up the final hours of a conference I attended for work.
I have a few perks to my job, none of which are more enjoyable than spending time with thoughtful writers who are passionate about our world and the difference they dare to make. I spent an exorbitant amount of time with two particularly prolific thinkers, a privilege that was ridiculously delightful and immeasurably profound. Now, looking out at a gloomy Florida skyline — the bustle of Disney just miles down the street and the reality of my frenetic suburban life a few hours away — I wish I could muster up a touch more energy to capture my thoughts. Because they’re the kind that stir and poke and church and mean.
But after being in the presence of men of great and lasting influence, all I can manage is to sit quietly and reflect. And I suppose (a text graciously thanking me from one of them just lit up my screen *sigh*), that, yes, reflecting quietly is just what I need.