It feels like we’re all in some form of taking off at the moment.
Girl two has been there done that with being little. She’s big and you can see it, or she’ll scream her head off. (So to speak. It’s just an expression. Mostly.)
Girl one has her eye on the growing up prize, sneaking dress shoes to school instead of sneakers and wrapping herself in fancy scarves whenever possible.
Boy two is turning twelve soon. Unlike his sisters, his dreams of flight do not involve growing up. Rather, they involve making himself more unique than he already is. I was informed recently that he has invented a new hairstyle he calls, “the elf.” He explained the elf to me proudly while preparing it for school. I quote, “the whole entire point of it is to make your ears look like their sticking out as much as possible.”
Boy one is in grade 11 and eager to be as old as possible as soon as possible. Nothing makes him happier than answering the phone and having to explain that he is not his dad. His wings flap madly regardless of wind, lift, or splash, stopping only when he falls unconscious to his pillow each night.
As for me, I’ve been pulled into some local initiatives I care a great deal about in the form of that dreaded beast, the committee. I am a bit over my head at times as to how best to contribute. Whether a committee can effectively take off on this one, or if the conjunction of multiple dragging webbed feet defeats (no pun intended) the possibilities, is a question. The group of ducks that took off en masse prior to taking the picture at the top of this last brave soul flying off on his own was certainly spectacular. Does it follow that if ducks can fly together, people with a bit of trial and error can manage it too? The gamble of the committee echoes the gamble of our place in the universe. We can’t do it alone, but too many cooks spoil the soup. We aren’t all charged to take the same road, yet needing each other is an unavoidable agony en route to progress. My group flight attempts have temporarily grounded my ability to think creatively beyond the committees.
So a prayer for my readers inspired by my realities of late:
May your flights be long and brave, your takeoffs and landings smooth. Should you find yourself on a committee, may the patience of Job be yours, and may the dragging of all the webbed feet end in a thoroughly soaked miracle of grace.