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The Weight, The Rope, And The Glass

Falls-GBishop2[1]April, 1990, with friends at the rope swing at Little River Canyon in northeast Alabama

“This looks easy enough,” I said to myself, but loud enough for Todd to hear.

All you have to do is run down the hill, swing out over the water, let go, catch the Frisbee, and land in the water,” he said. “What’s there to worry about?”

“Other than the Civil War-era rope?” I replied.

Well, turns out, the letting go part. I ran down the hill, swung over the water, tried to position myself for the Frisbee, but I just missed my window to let go. Letting go at this point would land me in the middle of the rocks adorning the base of the cliff. So, I held on and slammed into the side of the canyon. I missed the Frisbee but caught plenty of grief…and lots of laughter.

…25 years later, present day, and somewhere in southeast Alabama

I don’t take many naps. But after a long, hot Saturday in the yard, Sunday’s overcast was just what I needed. Pajamas on, I was just starting to drift off to the first sounds of rain on the roof, and Le Tour de France in the background. What came next was deafening. CRACK!! BOOM!! And a torrent of rain followed. Now fully awake, and thinking my house had been struck by lightning, I stumbled to open the front door. I find my eldest, Nicholas, soaking wet, and with an aura of desperation I hadn’t witnessed in 25 years. He said only this, “I was trying to make a rope swing…”  If he said anything else, I didn’t hear it. He lost me at “rope swing”.

Two things were clear to me then. My nap was over and the past was back for a visit.
(Remind me to thank Nicholas for that, later.)

Nicholas had fashioned a 3lb weight to the end of a rope, and swung it – lasso style – in hopes of securing a thick limb 30 feet above. Well, after a failed first attempt, he swung harder. So much so, that the weight came loose from the rope. (He opted for football over Boy Scouts, obviously.) The knot was a dud. But not his throw. No sir! He hit his receiver right in the hands. BULLSEYE. There was very little left of the windshield. Thankfully, there wasn’t any dangerous glass spilling into the street. Nope, it just fell inside the car – on the dash, around the baby’s sippy cup, and in the seats and floorboard. So I threw a waterproof tarp over the windshield and secured it from the wind with twine. The damage contained, I left to break the news to my neighbor – the neighbor who’s family was in town for her son’s wedding. The one who’s niece had just received an automotive makeover to go along with her wedding-party up-do. Turns out, the car belonged to a young mother of three in town for the wedding. (One of the three being the flower girl.) It was late Sunday afternoon, and there was little hope for an immediate repair. And until now, she was celebrating with loved ones. Until now, she had a drivable vehicle. And somewhere in Little River Canyon, somewhere in northeast Alabama, there are the frayed remains of an old rope swing, laughing at me once again.

            But its victory would be short lived. The weight, the rope, and the glass would soon be a prelude for grace and perspective.

Jennifer, the owner of the car, was as sweet as they came . Despite the hole in her windshield, she took Nicholas off the hook and apologized to him for the stress this had caused. She was consoling us. There is no denying the power of grace. And I’m so grateful to have witnessed my son receiving it from a perfect stranger. But a stranger no more. She’s a new family friend. And in this day and age, you can’t have enough of those – regardless how you come by them. Her car was fixed the next morning and received a full washing for good measure. The money I paid to have that windshield replaced was worth it to have been blessed by her response to the situation.

Have you had many unexpected expenses that you can be thankful for?

I pray that you do. Because what you receive in return is worth far more than the expense. And while there are lessons to be learned from this experience – and money to be paid back – my son has witnessed the weight of grace. And it was heavy. Heavy enough to break the bonds of a past demon for me and to keep one from ever materializing for him. Rest in peace rope swing…who’s laughing now?

Thank you, Jennifer. And thank you, too, Nicholas.
You’re still grounded.

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