Presumably, Alex just had another flying lesson. I overhead J. talking to him … mom wants you to wear goggles and a helmet. In my defense, I am also the mother who rarely failed to say, you look good in your uniform. [Momspeak for hang in there and finish this.]
I saw a dear friend this week. And had a good conversation with a sister yesterday about friends, how important it is to hold someone close who knows you. Really knows you. I desire to be that kind of friend also to my mother, daughters, sisters.
I remember Oregon and still have a photo somewhere. The footbridge above water hundreds of feet in the air with the loosely woven sides. Jordan holding on tight to Alex’s hand while my heart did 15 minutes of cardio in my throat. A few hours and a thousand daily responsibilities away from each other today, they still hold on tight.
J. and I will celebrate 40 years before the calendar turns over. I remember being engaged. I had always believed my marriage would be a good and perfect gift but hadn’t asked the one who really knows me whether I should hang in there and finish this. The senior creative director where I worked had lunch out without fail. In his quiet office one day, I asked, declaring I would not walk down the aisle without hearing.
And this is the confidence we have in him: if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of him.
Somewhere I would find our wedding program and those words.
To him who is able to keep you from falling … good guardrail.
To those nearest our hearts who check for our goggles and helmet … good guardrails.
