Introducing two more contributing authors to Take Flight: True Stories of How Dreams Shape Our Lives!
Connie Petersen’s story, “Just Making Moments,” is a moving tribute to her mother. Her unique voice shines through as she describes meaningful moments—including special holidays—with her mother, as well as her mother’s final illness and death.
Connie Petersen has a real zest for life. Her love of creative design led her to become a florist. Although a privilege to care for her parents during ten years of illness, the death of her mother derailed her for a time. Nurturing friends, designing, TBF, and writing have renewed her sense of humor, joy, and love for life once more.
“Just Making Moments” Story Excerpt:
According to Mom, our travels were all “trips of a life time.” It seems like someone else’s fantasy now. While staying in five-star resorts in the south of France, we were pleasured by rooms with ocean views. The waters were painted perfect in peacock blue. Countless evenings on terraces soaking up the ambiance of the Mediterranean Sea. Rituals of watching the evening sun hitch a ride on the whiteness that rode the waves.
There were luxurious spas designed to enlighten the mind and soul (I know our wallets felt lighter instantly). It was a blast taking occasional dips into the life of the rich and famous. Eavesdropping on conversations by the pool taught us all-important lingo: “ . . . pass the sun block, Darling. Wondering when they’re serving lunch? Suppose my toenails are dry yet? Do you think it comes in any other color?”
“Who has more fun than us girls?” Mom was always beaming when she announced her famous one-liner.
Venice’s famous arched bridges with their hidden treasures just waiting to be purchased limbered up our wallet zippers. Afterwards the oh-so-needed hot stone massages for tired backs and arms carrying too-heavy shopping bags. The pedicures to help feet tortured from relentless pounding on cobble-stones while hunting for that rare pair of darling shoes. The manicures to beautify hands, making them an equivalent match to soft-supple leather purses.
In her story, “Ahead of My Time,” Miriam Rashleigh humorously describes her struggles to overcome the challenges of her own birth, nearly fatal accidents and illnesses, and motherhood.
Miriam Rashleigh’s bio is her story in this book. Her upcoming role in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat is challenging her to stay on her feet. She is determined to remain a student of life; writing this story has reminded her of all she’s learned up to this point, and she’s excited to see what God has up His sleeve for her future! So far, this future involves re-entering nursing and raising teenagers and being guided, day by day, by God’s grace.
“Ahead of My Time” Story Excerpt:
For most of my stop here on planet earth I think I’ve been facing down death, in my own life or the lives of others. As I approach the mid-point of my life, I feel as though I’m a walking dead woman, having an out-of-body experience, looking down at myself, every day. How attractive. I don’t think there’s any plastic surgery for that.
Maybe part of the problem is that I’ve been ahead of myself for most of those years. So really, I’m probably eighty years old, because life picks up speed the further you get into it.
It started when I made my appearance into the world in the hallway of the hospital. My mother tells me that the nurse who checked the progression of her labour figured there was a long way to go and promptly went on a break, leaving my mom to herself on a gurney in the hallway. A few minutes later, my mom was frantically calling for help as my head was crowning. Now, my mother is a medical doctor, but there’s not a lot you can do to aid in the delivery of your own child unless you hop off the gurney; that’s a bit hard to do without help when your child’s head is on its way out.
So there I was, having arrived between missions trips to Mexico, Haiti, and Africa.
. . . Off our little family went to Nigeria, only to have me acquire malaria shortly after we arrived. That was me trying to get out of this life that I hadn’t chosen; I was already ahead of myself, having decided The Plan wasn’t working for me. So I acquired a high fever, stopped feeding, my mother said goodbye to me, handed me over to God, and I was on my way. Or so I thought.