Tonight, I volunteered to help with a lock-in for the youth group at the church where my husband is the traditional music director. As an appointed overnight volunteer, I was the second grown up who agreed to stay up all night to keep an eye on all things youth- and lock-in-related. This event was also one I had let my own teenagers know about, even though they are not regular attenders of the church’s youth group; and, as I wrote about yesterday, each of my teens expressed interest in and even excitement about. They each lasted a short amount of time and their experience brings opportunities for me to consider, specifically for how to support them in the future for other, similar events. But, while they were not physically with me for the entire event, nonetheless I realized I carried them with me through the night.
As we prepared to head off to the lock-in, one of the things my oldest decided she wanted to do was paint her nails to match what she was wearing. But more than her own nails, she also offered to paint mine. This act of pampering is always done with love, and I was more than happy to sit with her as she coated my nails in color and made me feel a little more glamorous even if my nails are a wee shorter than the usual adorned nails. But more than the pampering moment, it was the sense of connection those painted nails provided me throughout my time at the lock-in, long after my girls had gone home with their dad. Every time I looked at my nails, I couldn’t help but smile. I couldn’t help but think of the young woman who had painted them for me. I couldn’t help but recall how awesome that young woman is and what a beautiful heart she has.
While at the lock-in, I also watched the way my youngest chose to integrate into some of the early activities and the way she chose to find ways to handle some of the noise and chaotic overwhelm that comes with the beginning of such an activity, when the pent-up excitement is finally released by those who have been anticipating the event. Watching her putting into practice some of the things she has been learning through the years so that she could also participate in at least part of the event’s activities gave me a joy that stuck with me through the later hours, long after she had gone home with my husband.
But, what struck me that night was watching one young woman who was not one of mine, as she kept to herself during those early activities and seemed disengaged from many of the other participants. What I noticed more than anything else was the shift I saw in her when her brothers arrived a bit later into the event; she was like a whole new person in the way she smiled and laughed, her gestures all much more animated and her presence more comfortable with the people as well as the space. Clearly, the connection she has with her brothers empowers her and brings about a difference in her that I’m certain little else can do. In her and in that shift, I saw my own two girls and their connection.
During my youngest teen’s time at the event, she said more than once that she wished her sister had stayed longer. In those words were that connection, that relationship the two of them share that empowers them and enlivens them and even emboldens them. I know from my husband that the two of them disappeared upstairs together as they tend to do and for that I am grateful. I realize there were challenges for each of them when we arrived at the lock-in and that things did not go as we hoped. But I am ever grateful for the ways they are able to come together and to support one another, even if they don’t realize that’s what they are doing. I am incredibly proud of both of them for taking the risk to do something I know was not easy because of the anxiety and challenges it presented. And, of course, as I looked at my nails that night, and will do so in the days to come, I will be reminded of the ways I hold these two young women close to my heart.