After a forty-nine hour journey with very little sleep I arrived in America to attend the Sandy Cove Christian Writers' Conference. I had two main expectations. I would sit quietly in the shadow of a host of wonderful writers, editors and communicators, and learn the craft of writing. I would find out what genre I should be concentrating on.

After two short nights' sleep, I walked up to the reception desk with a smile which swiftly faded as I heard the question. "May we interview you on stage this evening? We would like to hear about your writing experiences in South Africa."

My writing experiences? What could I possibly share with all these distinguished writers and communicators?

That evening I stood in front of Jim Watkins, the conference director, and braced myself for questions I knew I wouldn't be able to answer.

"Tell us how come you are here," Jim asked. "What brought about this trip?"

That was easy. All I needed to do was tell a story. I relaxed, and told how it was financially impossible for me to ever attend a writers' conference in America, and how we don't yet have them in South Africa. I explained how, some months ago, I was leading a course on the Prayer of Jabez. Several times a day I prayed, "Lord enlarge my territory." Every evening I deleted all e-mails relating to the conference scholarship offered by my on-line writers' list. I couldn't afford to go to America.

"Lord, enlarge my territory . . . " Delete. One day I sensed the Lord respond. "Make up your mind. Do you want me to enlarge it or not?"

The distinguished audience laughed at my unintentional humor. Smiles and nods of agreement greeted my comments. I learned later that people enjoyed the accent I didn't think I had. Every person at the conference knew me as 'the gal from South Africa'. So much for remaining in the background.

During the next five days, I did indeed learn at the feet of writers, editors and communicators who have mastered their craft. Francine Rivers blessed us as she shared the story of her life as well as the background to each of her books. Sharon Ewell Foster regaled us with stories of how she became a writer, complete with a jelly-stained manuscript.

Throughout the week I learned at the feet of writers, editors and communicators who had mastered their craft. But behind the scenes I learned other lessons; how to get a cup of steaming coffee from the machine in the foyer without watching it pour down the drain; how to drive the American taps so that I could emerge from the shower clean but not scalded; how to switch on lights without dismantling the sockets; how to eat our South African deserts for breakfast; how to control runaway luggage trolleys; how a writing class could turn into a counseling and prayer session for a needy writer. Every way I turned I found another story.

I certainly didn't achieve my goal to hide in the background. But over and over, at meal times and during conversations, I was affirmed. "You are a story teller". I now know exactly what sort of writing I should concentrate on. I must tell stories.

Of course, thinking about it, stories can be used in all genres. So I can concentrate on fiction or nonfiction, devotions or screen writing, full length books or anecdotes. I can write for magazines, or for the Internet. I guess that means I am free to follow in the footsteps of the greatest story-teller of all.

The Lord certainly enlarged my territory - and Sandy Cove expanded my options.

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