A New Look at Leftovers

The word leftover drifted through my mind all fall. I really didn’t understand why, but I tried to pay attention. I was especially drawn to the idea as I sat and knitted in the evening.

So, being the word nerd that I am, I looked up the meaning of leftover in the dictionary. In addition to the predictable definition related to food, another meaning struck me.

“anything left or remaining from a larger amount; remainder”

Because I was raised by parents who grew up in the Great Depression, I rarely throw away any of my yarn leftovers. That goes for extra buttons, pieces of fabric, or anything that could be pieced together to make something new. My personal belief is that all things, no matter the size, has creative potential. In fact, I still have a gorgeous, antique turquose button I salvaged from a drawer in my mother’s kitchen. It’s over 40 years old, yet I’m determined to find the perfect use for it someday!

I guess the answer to the leftover dilemma was right in front of me. Or more accurately, right over me.  I looked down at the crocheted blanket I was ‘wearing’. It had been found in my grandma’s cedar chest, and I don’t know its story. Tiny scraps of boldly colored and black yarn still cause me to pause and study its intricacies. Whose fingers gently and creatively crocheted this blanket that still keeps me warm?

I love the idea that came next. I decided to rummage through my yarn scrap bin and create a scarf with some leftovers. I didn’t know who it would be for or even when I would give it away, but I sensed that the word leftover was on my heart for this very reason. After choosing my colors, pattern, and needles, I began to knit. I wasn’t worried about running out because I knew I could just grab more scraps. Perhaps with leftovers there is always enough? What joy I felt with this freedom.

Whenever I knit, I pray for the person that will receive the gift. This time, I prayed that God would prompt me to give it to the person who would feel the most encouraged. Shortly before I finished, I saw her face in my heart.

As I presented her this scarf made of leftovers,  I reminded her, and myself, that whatever we are going through in this life, God will weave something beautiful out of the scraps. We may think that we don’t have enough of whatever, but He will be able to piece the bits together and make something beautiful out of our humble efforts. He will always provide enough.

The gift actually spoke so loudly to me. I keep thinking about leftovers. In the past month, I’ve been guilty of assuming that I didn’t have enough. Whether it was energy, words, or encouragement, I have felt like I was falling short. Then I think of the scarf. Of leftovers. Of God’s ability to take what I offer and make something new. I’m taking some steps toward learning a new kind of dependency upon Him.

I set a new PR in 2011 with the number of hand knit items that I made and gave away. I’ve decided to gather those scraps and wait for God to prompt me to make another ‘leftover’ gift. Perhaps I’m finding a new and creative way to encourage others?

All of us are created in the image of God and we reflect His very nature when we create. So what are your leftovers? What might God ask you to do with them? What might He do with them? I’m starting to imagine a whole new definition of leftovers…. something that we can give away that is always just enough. And beautiful.

By the way, as I have been thinking about this post, I discovered that one of my friends has been diagnosed with cancer and is beginning chemotherapy even as I type these words. She will be losing her hair. After I sign off, I’m going to look through my yarn scraps to make her a darling hat. That will be my tangible way to tell her I am ‘covering’ her in prayer. If you wouldn’t mind, would you also pray for her strength and protection?

The Perfect Gift (and the story behind it)

I’m guest blogging on my friend Keri Wyatt Kent’s blog about how God not only used her gift of writing, but her faithfulness in prayer in a gift I’m giving this Christmas.  Please read my story on her website at http://keriwyattkent.com/soul/?p=1034.

Keri is the author of several books that have encouraged me to live in such a way that allows me to be present with the people around me. She also inspires me to bask in the presence of God. I’m grateful to also know her and can attest to the fact that her life is authentic to the words that she shares. Spend some time getting to know her as you visit her blog.

I’m also grateful that this special gift I’m giving tomorrow morning has her fingerprints on it that are over a decade old. Thanks in advance for reading, and we both would love to hear how God has shown Himself to you!

Listening to the Red Hots

“Grandma, my dolly’s really sick.”

Grandma took my hand, and off we went to her pantry where she opened a pale grey cupboard door. The “medicine”, actually cinnamon red hots in cognito, sat besides jars of linament and bottles of aspirin.

“Here, honey girl. One for you and one for Thumbelina.”

Actually, two for me.

Everyone felt much better….for the next ten minutes or so until my baby doll got fussy again.

It’s been years since I thought of that little game I used to play with Grandma. How does something that now feels so vivid surface into my awareness? That probably will always be a mystery to me.

Here’s what I was doing when it popped back into my head.

This morning I was standing in my quiet, softly lit kitchen. It was still dark outside, and I had Christmas music playing in the background. I was about to tackle making my ‘Christmas tree cookies.’ They’re basically a spritz or pressed cookie that sometimes are a bit tricky.  Since Jordan was a toddler, he’s loved them. He and his wife are coming home tonight to spend the weekend with us, and I wanted to have a batch of them made.

My mind was cluttered. I’ve been busy. Even though I’ve been tending to the things that God has asked me to do, I’ve had to be extremely organized and planful so as to be prepared for what is next. I think this is the first time that I have made a list that actually included “Make Jordan’s Christmas Trees – Thurs. AM.

What makes this feel complicated is that I am so desirous of being present with what is actually at hand. I thought I’d been doing that pretty well, but I was second guessing myself as I pressed cookie after cookie onto the cookie sheet. Had I been going through the motions more than is healthy for me?

I began to pray through my day ahead. After cookies, I was meeting two girlfriends I serve with for breakfast. Then I was heading to Chicago to pick up Debralyn for Christmas break. (HURRAH!) Then I was taking Joshua to his voice lessons. Then I was going to put the finishing touches on my neighborhood Christmas coffee that I’m hosting tonight (That’s another story). I also want to make sure I have  supper ready so we have at least a few moments to connect as a family before my neighbors come. Did I mention that Jordan and Jacqui are coming too for the weekend?

So, as I preliving my day,  I was praying that I would be present with each of these precious people. After all, that’s what matters the most. Seriously, I know I don’t lay awake at night regretting not getting something done. I regret when I’m not present.

That’s when I remembered my grandma and our little red hot game. I wonder now what she was in the middle of doing when I cried out for her help for my sick doll. But, I do remember that with her I never felt like I was interrupting or in the way.  I do remember her touch and her tenderness as she was able to enter my little girl’s world and give me what Thumbelina and I needed. She was present. She didn’t say that dollies don’t get sick. She didn’t say that cinnamon red hots won’t help. She was with me. And Thumbelina and I both felt much better because of her ‘in the moment’ presence.

That’s how I want to be. I could almost feel myself become more present even with the task of making those little cookies and crowning each one with a red hot. It became a holy moment. I knew that God had given me that memory so I could offer that touch to the people in my life.

I couldn’t help but smile as the words to “Do You Hear What I Hear?” filled the room. Of course that would be the song to accompany my prayer.

Yes God. I am listening and I am hearing You as I enter into this joy filled day.

Lesson from the Lingering Rose

In spite of the changing season, my yellow rose bush continues to produce lush and fragrant blooms. Yes…in December!

I expected to see them in the summer and even in the fall. But after I turned to the last page of my calendar, I couldn’t help but be amazed at it’s determination to continue blooming. Even today, with sub freezing temperatures and newly fallen snow, it blooms.

And it is lovely. I stoop to drink in it’s fragrance while listening to the hush of the newly fallen snow.

At the same time, something feels wrong. The rose represents summer at its fullness, while the snow represents winter at its best. Seeing them mingled together under the tip of my nose is stark and a bit haunting. I’m conflicted because I love both the rose and the snow. For the first time, I realize that I am seeing transition played out very slowly, and it needs to be resolved.

This rose bush seems to be crying out to me. “Have you seen me yet? I’m going to keep blooming until you really, really see me!  And when the snow melts next year, I’ll be back.”  You see, when the rose gives way to the snow, the tension is over. The transition is over. Change has occurred.

Webster defines transition this way: movement, passage, or change from one position, state, stage, subject, concept, etc. to another.

I’ve never really thought about transition in the context of change before. But that has now changed.  I notice these new blooms much more vividly against the backdrop of the snow and bare stems of my other plants. Perhaps this quiet transition in the season of change actually can be soothing and comforting.

What a precious contrast to the abrupt transitions I have been noticing lately.

I’ve never handled chaos well. I love doing things one at a time and really try to be present in the moment at hand. When too much comes at me, I tend to shut down. The months of November and December can be difficult for me if I’m not careful.

For example, did any of you escape being bombarded with Christmas ads before the Thanksgiving turkey was even in the oven? I know I didn’t. Long before I sat down to feast on my Thanksgiving turkey, I was inundated with ads shouting “It’s time to shop!” Really? I love sitting around the Thanksgiving table. And I love purchasing and making meaningful gifts for the people I love. But, I hate when there is no space between the two. Why do we have to rush from one to another?

Isn’t there a need for transition from Thanksgiving into Christmas? Perhaps like my snow covered yellow rose? I wonder what my heart misses when I leapfrog from one thing to the next without pausing. I think my yellow rose invites me to consider what has been  before I rush into what is to come.

So that is the theme for me as I continue to move toward Christmas Day. I want to hold tenderly what has been before I race into what is to come. So even now….I just celebrated a Christmas lunch with my co-workers at International Teams. How can I carry that with me as I move into my next thing? And the next? And the next?

I think I will keep looking at my backyard. Yes. It’s still blooming. And there are still a few unmelted flakes of snow on it. I can still practice giving thanks for the rose AND the snow.  And when it stops blooming, I’ll continue to be grateful for the lesson in lingering that my yellow rose gave me.

What’s Underneath My Green?

I believe that all of creation points to God. I also believe that all of creation can teach me something that He wants me to learn.

The beauty of running on the same wooded path is that I actually know some of the more colorful trees – especially this time of year. The homeschool mom in me just had to know why some turn golden, others red, and still others a dark russet brown. And I had to know why each year the color saturations were a bit different. I thought I knew, but had to check anyway. Here’s your free science lesson for the day!

As summer meanders into autumn, we all know that the days grow shorter while the nights grow cooler. The changing amount of light and the changing temperatures tell the tree to start preparing for winter. The trees are able to decrease or cease their food production which stops the flow of chlorophyll to the leaves. (If you’ve forgotten biology, this chlorophyll has been what’s colored the leaves green and provided us with oxygen all summer long).

Here’s where it gets interesting! Under the green in the leaves of trees that turn yellow, gold, or orange in the fall lays zanthophyll. This is a yellow pigment that appears once the green fades away. Did you catch this? The yellow has been there all along. It is only because of the autumn changes that we can finally see it.

Fall 2011 was stellar for the yellow (I wanted to say yellar) colors to shine. Every sunny morning I had to stop and say (even if only to my dog), “Wow! Look at that yellow!” Even the trees in my neighborhood could take my breath away. I had never noticed the brilliance of the yellows so close to home before. The conditions were exactly right for the yellow to be at it’s best, and that glorious yellow caused me to worship God.

In contrast, the leaves that give us the deep red and magenta colors are a bit more fickle. Their colors are most brilliant only when fall temperatures range between freezing and 45 degrees and they have plenty of sun. Summer rain also impacts them. These colors aren’t hidden under the green in the leaves like our yellow trees.

Instead, some of the glucose produced when the tree manufactured its food is trapped in the leaves and when the chlorophyll disappears, the glucose reddens because in these trees, the glucose contains anthrocyanin, a red pigment catalyst. The red pigment was all set to do it’s magic. I love that it’s the same pigment that makes roses and geraniums red. I wonder if Alice in Wonderland knew that?

Finally, Ron and I search for autumn colors every fall upon the wooded hills of Galena. While the beauty is amazing, the colors seem rather subtle. Today I learned why the Galena hills, which are heavily covered with oak trees, seem more brown than glorious. The fading oak leaves actually are cleaning out the tree and contain waste products in place of the chlorophyll. They turn brown and then fall to the forest floor in often unremarkable fashion. Yet, they have cleaned the interior of that tree. I don’t have to remind you that oak trees are some of the strongest species around!

I’m not going to bore you now with any more details so back to my opening statement. What could God possibly be teaching me through this?

For me it became obvious as I was running through the woods this morning. Who I am on the inside eventually shows through. For me, the chlorophyll represents everything going easily, abundantly, and effortlessly. In seasons of change or pain, who we really are often gets exposed.

What’s underneath my own ’chlorophyll’? Do I look like the oak tree because I have a lot more cleaning out to do? I suspect there’s a lot more of that to go on. Have I integrated enough of God’s truth into my life to be the catalyst for His glory like the red pigment? Or do I shine only if all of the conditions are exactly perfect? Would my life cause people to turn toward God like the glorious yellow shining through from the inside? I pray that I will have the courage to do the hard work so that is true.

So, I think God has much for me to learn from a simple changing leaf. Gratefully, He is in the business of helping facilitate change. If you don’t believe that, just look outside.

Summer’s Last Day

“All of my life

In every season

You are still God

I have a reason to sing

I have a reason to worship”

 Taken from Desert Song by Hillsong United

This song always stops me in my tracks. It is filled with verbs such as “bring praise,” “rejoice,” and “declare that God is near.”

It isn’t lost on me that my son, Josh, loaded this song on my iPod because he is one of the most grateful people that I know. We didn’t teach it to him. He simply is filled with gratitude. Even when he was faced with a plateful of a dreaded meal, he thanked his dad and me. Before he ate it. He even thanked the proctor for his ACT for her presence during the exam. Who does that? We used to laugh at that idiosyncrisy of his, but now realize that it is quite an important practice. Being grateful…no matter what.

Tomorrow is the first day of autumn. Most people focus upon that by looking ahead to pumpkin pie, falling leaves, sweatshirts, and frost on the lawn. Today is the last day of summer. I am going to spend a few moments reflecting upon some of the ways that I saw God with me in this last season. We lose something if we don’t stop to be grateful. No matter what. With my calendar at my side, I am going to capture some of those moments that surface joy from my heart.

Summer 2011

* I tracked down State Fair Zinnias. It wasn’t easy because I waited too long, but I found some thanks to a kind customer who gave me a tip. These are the zinnias that wave at me all summer long. They never stop making me smile.

* God invited a team of women to partner in bringing a Boundaries with Teens  class to our church. I am honored to help lead and shepherd and teach in that class. It clearly was God.

* We got to stand far too close to U2′s concert at Soldier Field. Can you believe that my first ‘rock’ concert didn’t occur until I was 51? I got to experience it with Ron, Debralyn, and Josh (watching Josh watch the Edge was phenomenal).

* I got to begin running again after a wintertime knee injury. I thought those days may have been in my rear-view mirror, but there is again a smiling woman out on the running trail. God speaks to me there. Sometimes in whispers, sometimes by a glimpse into creation, and sometimes by chalk written words such as courage and hope on the path.

* Ron and I provided each of our children tennis lessons when they were little. This summer we played tennis as a family. Even my dear daughter-in-law joined in the fun. These were some of my freeze frame moments. Ron and I also play against each other. I think it’s safe to say that I am excited to be on the tennis courts.

* I spent the day with my childhood/high school girlfriends (pictured here). There is little sweeter than being with people who have known me all of my life.

* Even though it was gut-wretching to take Debralyn to Moody Bible Institute, she found her glass slipper. It is a perfect fit. She is living the answer to many prayers, and I am honored to watch her joy multiply.

* Jacqui was offered a long-awaited job. Her and Jordan’s patience and dependency upon God inspired me. Oh, he now gets to be the Athletic Coordinator/Recruiter in the Admissions Department. If you read more in my blog, you’ll know how much he loves ANY sport!

* I get to watch firsthand Ron help lead International Teams because I volunteer there once a week. I have never been involved in his workplace….and it is fun to see that side of him shine. And I get to help tell the stories of the people ITeams is serving.

* My relational world has become richer. Imagine my delight to open a card stuck in my mailbox reminding me that I have a friend just a few steps away.

* Great America with Debralyn. And then with Josh. Enough said.

* Witnessing the ‘good-bye’ to two servants who have blessed my and my family’s lives immeasureably. It’s an honor to be counted as their friend.

I’m realizing that I could go on and on and on about many of the blessings I am thankful for this summer, but I will stop here for now. Did you notice that most things revolve around people? (and creation….that helps me connect with God) Without relationships…well, I don’t want to even imagine what that would be like.

Some seasons seem rich…others more lean. But, I want to be like Josh and express gratitude no matter what. As I write this, I keep peaking at the time because I have to leave for a dental consult. Without going into any details, my mouth has been a distracting irritation…and I chose to sit and write this blog before I went….because, I am going to chose gratitude on summer’s last day. And even tomorrow, I will chose gratitude on the first day of fall.

Seeing Clearly

Morning Moon

I inherited my grandma Vogen’s hazel green eyes. I also inherited her poor eyesight. We both had severe astigmatism and couldn’t see well up close or far away. With my high tech glasses, I don’t think too much about not being able to see clearly. But for the past week, I have been thinking a lot about something my friend, Teresa, pointed out.

She was gazing out at the field behind her house (yes, she gets to live on a farm!) trying to see a bird in the distance. Struggling to decifer what kind of bird it actually was, she squinted harder and harder to try to make it out. Then she realized that she was looking through the side of the door that was covered with a screen. By merely taking a couple of steps to the side, she could look out the pure window pane. The bird was clear.

Many of us would have just moved on with our day. But Teresa did something very important. She stopped. She thought for a moment. She realized that she was moving slowly enough to actually notice the clarity with which she could see. She asked a great question. “How often have I been moving so fast that I was viewing my life through a screen?”

What a gift that question was in the midst of this season. I don’t get this right much of the time, but I long to see clearly. Not with my hazel green eyes, but with my heart. Since she told me of that moment on the farm, I have looked out the windows of my home differently. I am aware of the tiny grid of screen and how that distorts the view. I try to contrast that view with what it is like to actually step outside and see the flowers and sky, woods and birds without any distortion. I am training myself to transfer that discipline to how I look at my husband. My children. My friends. My neighbors. Even my dog. Can I see them clearly?

This morning I walked downstairs a bit earlier than normal. At 5:45am, the practically full moon was casting it’s glow upon the garden in my backyard. I stopped. I thought of the line from The Night Before Christmas that says,

“The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow gave a luster of midday to the objects below.”

That’s what it looked like. While the moonlight was falling upon grass and flowers, the yellow roses literally glowed.

I had a list packed day ahead of me. I had a choice in that moment. I could keep walking to get the coffee and laundry started. I could even peek out through the screened patio door. Or I could step outside with my camera and soak in the beauty of God’s new mercies for today.

Guess what I did? I listened to Teresa’s voice and stepped outside. The birds scolded me as they flew out of their comfy nests. That was the only sound I heard. I noticed the glowing roses. The sedum shimmered with the moon’s reflected light. I saw the morning awakening.

Something awoke in my heart as well and it is still alive even as I sit indoors at my computer. My list has dramatically shrunk, but each time I look out my window toward the garden, I smile at my yellow roses that greeted me this morning.

What do you need to see more clearly? How can you move the screen away? It will take all of us practice…but today reminded me that it is possible.

(If you would like to pass this message to your circle of friends, just click on the ‘leave a comment’ section. You will be able to share this post easily via Twitter or Facebook.)

Fulfilling Purpose

WHEN ANYTHING IN CREATION FULFILLS ITS PURPOSE, IT BRINGS GLORY TO GOD.

Monday: Awake. Take Josh to school. Pick up papers to grade. Drive to Starbucks and grade said papers. Begin to write talk for week one of Boundaries with Teens class. Return to school. Teach three literature and composition classes. Get groceries. Return home. Alter Jordan’s new suit pants. Hem three pairs of suit pants. Sleep.

Tuesday: Awake. Run. Laundry. Scream with joy hearing Jacqui got a job! Work on my book. Head to store to buy celebration gift for Jacqui. On the way, stop by friend’s house for quick visit. Continue work on my book. Prepare celebration dinner for Jacqui and the guys who have Fantasy Football draft. Watch movie and Gilmore Girls with Jacqui. Knit during movie. Sleep.

Wednesday: Awake. Run. Call Debralyn. Deep clean kitchen. Work on my book. Intimate phone call with best friend. Writing/meetings for International Teams. Process International Teams day with Ron over dinner. Drive Josh to and from church. Knit. Sleep.

Thursday: Awake. Walk. Lead meeting with ten women for Moms with Teens class. Take Josh to doctor. Work on my book. Continue to prepare talk for week one of Moms with Teens class. Knit. Watch movie with Josh. Sleep.

Friday: Awake. Walk. Pack up for the weekend away. Write blog while I wait to go. Meandering drive out west to Galena. Deep clean house. Pause often to enjoy beauty of the woods. Gather hydrangeas for indoors. Have dinner with Ron and Josh downtown. Meander through town. Watch special on 9/11. Sleep.

I won’t continue to list the details of Saturday and Sunday….but they were mostly relational with my husband, son, and father and mother-in-law.

This certainly may be way too much detail for you to read. I had to write it all down, however, for me. I went through this week with a sense of calmness, not panic.

My life has changed dramatically from just a mere three years ago when I was mostly a ‘homeschool’ mom. Now I am eagerly writing my book to encourage women who are facing a season of transition. I am privileged to volunteer with my writing skills to help International Teams tell the stories of  those it seeks to help. To top it off, I have added the responsibility of leading an amazing group of women to provide a class at Willow Creek Community Church for mothers with teens. In the background of my activities, I still seek to grow increasingly in love with Jesus and with the individuals in my family. And I still love being a housewife and doing the repeated tasks that naturally involves.

God has helped me bridge my life that was mostly focused upon the people inside of my house to the life that will increasingly include focus upon people whom I don’t live with day by day. I have been slow to say yes to new opportunities and endeavors because I want what I do to be true to what God is asking me to do. Last week provided me proof that He is giving me all the time to do that which He has asked me to do. And it is true to who He made me to be.

May I join with all of creation that gives Him glory.

“It’s Fly Time”

If you read my last blog, you know that I had a ball riding the Dare Devil Dive with Debralyn. Before we took to the air, I playfully shouted “It’s Fly Time!” I think I embarrassed her by unconsciously mimicing the voice of the man who said it first, but the phrase apparently has stuck. “It’s fly time….”

Years ago I heard a song on the radio called Find Your Wings by Mark Harris. I literally pulled to the side of the road because I couldn’t see through my tears. This has turned into a sort of Bryant family theme song. Here’s the chorus:

I pray that God will fill your heart with dreams                                    

And that faith gives you the courage

To dare to do great things

I’m here for you whatever this life brings

So let my love give you roots

And help you find your wings.

I guess this put words around all those prayers uttered on behalf of my children for years. Roots and wings.

If I am honest, I have to admit that I selfishly am more a fan of roots. Wings inherently include an earthly good-bye that changes things. I know because I just had to do it less than 48 hours ago. And for me, it is never fun to say good-bye.

When people ask me how I am doing with launching another child off to college, I have resisted the ‘expected’ response. You know how it goes…..

“Oh, this is a wonderful opportunity for ______. I am so excited for _________. I can’t wait to see what happens for __________.”

Instead, I put my right hand slightly above my stomach and say that this is the part of me that deeply aches when I have to say good-bye. And it is aching. Isn’t it ok to be honest and just say that it hurts? Even now, I feel like I need to say that I am deeply honored and blessed to watch Debralyn follow God’s calling to Moody Bible Institute. I am 100% convinced that she is supposed to be right there. But, for a little bit of time, I am letting God, people who ‘get’ me, and creation comfort that part of me that aches.

Tears still wait right at the surface and all I have to do is think of my ‘good-bye’ hug with Debralyn. We were standing by the vending machine at the foot of the stairs that leads to her new room. Ron had already held her. Josh followed. What does a mom say to her daughter in that moment? If I hadn’t already said it, there was really little left to say. I probably mumbled some forgettable words of affection. But, I remember stroking her hair….and having that gutteral breathing sound that betrays deep emotion.

Leave it to Debralyn. She grabbed my shoulders and with tears on her cheeks, she said, “Mom….it’s fly time.” I laughed and cried harder. But, she is right. It is fly time. Now I really know why I braved the Dare Devil Dive. It was to remind me constantly that it is her time to fly. And it is my time to ache for the upheaval of her healthy, strong, and deep roots.

Fly high and strong dear daughter!

Arm in Arm

The disassembled pale pink bridesmaid’s dress lay in four pieces across my kitchen table. These weren’t simple pieces either. Each of them had a layer of chiffon covering satin. I knew that I dare not make a mistake putting it all back together. I kept telling myself to be careful with my scissors. After all, it wasn’t denim. Did I mention that it had cost $300?

How quickly self-doubt seeped in. It had seemed quite simple when I told my friend’s daughter that I could make it fit….and save her the $100 alteration fee. Boy did I hope this wasn’t one of my impulsive ‘oops.’

My kitchen was quiet and I was in the mood to tackle this project. I needed both to rip and mark and measure. From one piece to two to three to four. Once the zipper was dangling, I began to really get nervous.  I guess I could fork over the $100 myself to the tailor.

Then Debralyn danced through the kitchen on the way downstairs with two of her friends. She must have intuitively seen the strained look on my face. She’s always been able to read my body language like I’m a large-type book.

“How’s it going Mom?”

“Well…I REALLY hope I can put this all back together right.”

“Mom. There’s nobody else I’d trust more to fix a dress. You got this.”

Then away she went. To help tutor her friend in statistics. (If only you knew how much we are ALL surprised that she would be doing this).

I turned my attention back to the dress. I couldn’t stop hearing her powerful words of confidence. She reminded me of what was true. I could alter this dress. I began to slowly put this dress back together piece by piece by piece. She simply smiled when she saw the pile of fabric hanging like a dress once again. I don’t think I could have done it without her

That was Monday.

A mere 24 hours later brings Debralyn and me to Great America. This is our perfect place to play. Some moms would spend the day with their daughter shopping or getting a mani and pedi. Not us. We like to ride the rides. Waiting in long lines face to face getting to talk is just an added bonus.

Once there Debralyn began to dig around the seed she’d planted a couple of weeks ago.

“Mom. You’d love it. It’s like sky diving. You gotta try it. I know you’d love it.”

I think I mumbled something very noncommittal in return. But she had me thinking about it.

Dare Devil Dive.

I’m not sure how high off of the ground you hang before you free fall, but I think it is in fact the tallest structure in the amusement park. I’ve since read that the free fall would break the speed limit.

We’d already ridden on a roller coaster in the dark. Then she invited me to try a ride that spins you around upside down at the speed of light. I laughed til no sound came out. When we got off, she said, ‘Let’s do it now Mom. There won’t be any line.’

I don’t quite remember what I said, but she heard “OK!” So off we went to the Dare Devil Dive. I honestly wasn’t nervous. Rides don’t do that to me. And I am the mom afterall. Isn’t she supposed to be leaning on me? Funny how time changes things.

Well, since she had done this once before, she began to talk me through it. Details about the harness, the slow float to the top, the sense that nothing is holding you when you plummet toward the ground began to blur in my mind. This, I told myself, is a memory waiting to happen!

So, we got strapped in….placed in this cranelike structure…I was kidding around with the employees. Debralyn and I were hooked together and were instructed to loop elbows and hold each others’ arms. I clearly was the one that took the most comfort from this instruction.

“Fly Time!” I playfully shouted. Up we went. And up we continued to go. I think I said a lot of things to my dear daughter but I honestly have little memory of it. I kept thinking that I clearly hadn’t thought this through. When the people beneath us began to look like lego characters, Debralyn said, “Look around Mom. Isn’t it amazing?” That normally would be something I would say.  I did a quick glance and then kept my eyes focused on the ground. That seems strange to me now as I write it – why would I want to see where I have to go?

Then….the ride operator shouted out “Jes.” (Debralyn wanted to be named Jes)….1…2…3…..

Then my daughter pulled the rip cord. And I didn’t stop screaming until the flight ended. I have little memory of any thoughts other than I didn’t want to let go of Debralyn’s arm.

When we finally were back on terra firma, I slowly began to process what just happened. It took about an hour for my brain to settle down, and I was overwhelmed with how much comfort I took in being linked with Debralyn. I couldn’t have imagined doing it all alone. Even though I wasn’t actually ”terrified” during the flight, my adreneline rush caused me to need to be connected to someone. Tightly.

It hit me like a slap of wind. Two days in a row I leaned on my daughter. Her words about the dress. Her arms during the flight. And I really loved how that felt.

Here I thought I was going to alter a dress to help my neighbor….and I thought I was taking Debralyn to Great America for her. I think I was the winner both days!