Go Fly a Kite!

I got a call from the school principal yesterday.  She wants me to come help the kids make kites the week before Spring Break.  I have already cut the wings for them to assemble.  It will be harrowing.  Mostly they won't listen to what I say.  Measuring and taping should be precise and accurate.  With kids it rarely is.  But in spite of the messy work, the little kites will perform like a trooper. 

Sometimes life is like that.  All the pieces don't quite fit.  Sometimes you have to make adjustments and do the best you can.  But just when you thought you couldn't get everything to act right, there comes a perfect wind and the kite rises on power you didn't know it had, the tail flutters in graceful arcs, and you feel the pull in your hands and your heart soars.

In the air you can't see the mistakes, or maybe they bring their own beauty.  Instability may cause the kite to dip and soar and rise to rhythms you can't control.  It is very exciting to see. 

Remember that your life is like the kite:  It is dependent on the connection to the one in control, the string, remaining taut.  It must face the wind like your life must face the contrary forces against it.  And like the kite, you rise higher when the contrary wind is strongest.   

Very often people say the wind is what makes the kite fly.  But it doesn't do it alone.  The string is the other factor that gives the kite its flying ability.  It is the string that holds it anchored with the wind in its face.  Without the string the kite tumbles into a tree or a fence.  The string, the connection to the flyer, also makes the kite fly.

Remember, you are a kite and God is holding the string.  Make sure of your connection and never fear the contrary wind--and soar.

A Very Bad Day

My mother told me there would be days like this.  Yesterday morning the phone woke me before 6:00 am.  My daughter was screaming on the phone, "John is dead.  Mama, John is dead." 

I yanked on some clothes and went to her house.  The yard and driveway were full of vehicles so I parked across the street.  The Sheriff's deputy and several firemen and the ambulance drivers were standing around the front porch and the living room.  John was still sitting in his chair.  She was right--he was dead.

The Justice of the Peace didn't come until after 8:00 am.  She was very kind as were the other guys.  Carol was calm and controlled and Sarah was almost inconspicuous.  The dog was very vocal--he barked at every new person and car.  John would have to have an autopsy.

By 9:00a.m. the funeral home people came and took John away.  I was glad when they got there and so was Carol.  I could not keep from looking at him expecting him to say something.

Carol was glad when they came.  She had noticed that he was not moving.  He had been sick with a cold and a bad cough, and she was glad he was sleeping.  Then she realized that he was too still and she couldn't hear him breathe.  Sarah got up about 5:00 a.m. to get ready for school. 
Carol said "Feel of him.  Is he cold?" 
"He's not breathing, Mama," she said.
That was when Carol called me and Sarah went across the street and got Stan.  He called the fire department and the emergency guys.

John's sisters came to see Carol after I left.  The weather was very bad and the roads were beginning to ice over.  It was the beginning of a very bad day. 

The memorial service for John will be Saturday morning, but the bad day won't be over then.  My mother never said how long a bad day could last.