Page 107 of In a Word, Yes

“Ultimately, what you’ve been writing about lately is hope. And it seems clear to me that you and I find ourselves on a similar spiritual wavelength. Both wanting to give God freedom to write his best story through us. Both aware of the collective anxiety all around us. Both caring deeply about putting goodness into the world, for just such a time as this.”

I set down my mug. I’ll let it cool a bit more. “Hmm. Well, I liked what you said about hope in church on Sunday. About how we sometimes defer our own hope. I keep thinking about it.”

“I find that very interesting.”

“How so?”

A suddenthunk, then a rumble.

Mom startles. “What’s that?”

“Just a pine cone falling onto the roof. See, there it goes, rolling off the edge.”

“Oh yes, of course. Honey, here’s the epiphany. What if it’s timefor us to join our stories? I mean, they’re already intertwined.” Mom dovetails her fingers together. “Divinely, painfully, joyfully, eternally intertwined. But also, our journeys are different in ways different readers might relate to.”

I tuck my feet under myself, snug my blanket tighter. “Readers?”

“Remember a while back, I shared that bit you wrote about Nana with my editor?”

“You shared it withwho?Mom!”

“Bridgette Madsen at BeLoved.Didn’t I mention it? You know, I talk about her all the time. Anyway, I pitched her an idea, and she loved the concept. Loved your writing. Loved what you bring to the table as a younger woman. And anyway, then the piece you wrote in theMessenger... well, everything went click-click-click for me. So I sent her the link to it. And she—”

“Click-click-what? Mom, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying that maybe it’s time we put our stories together—in a book. Sweetie, you are a beautiful woman, learning beautiful, significant things about what it means to give your best yes to something. And I’m just a girl who can’t say no!”

For some reason this strikes me as so funny I erupt in laughter.

“It’s true, I can’t!” Mom says, laughing along.

“It’ssotrue,” I say. “But I still have no idea where you’re going with all th—”

On a dime, Mom turns serious. She taps me on the nose twice with her pointer finger, saying, “Honey. Follow.”

Again I feel a giggle coming up. How did I never notice how hysterical my mother is?

“Lu Lu. We both want to explore what it means to put goodness, truth, and beauty out into the world, am I right? Doing so may look different for you than it does for me in my season. But what is universal is that, at times, it will cost us all something—an uncomfortable yes, or an uncomfortable no.”

I inhale deep. “I’ve allowed feelings to run my life for way too long, Mom.”

“I think we’ve both found it challenging to run toward the harder thing and trust that God wants to work through our weaknesses. I have to believe there are plenty of women with the same struggle.”

I think I’m tracking now. “What’s the bottom line?”

“Is that a harmonica?”

Have I mentioned my mother is super distractable?

“I think so.Mom. Bottom line.”

“I want you to pray about cowriting a book with me, each of us drawing from our past hurts to talk about our future hope. Together.”

“Oh.” I let this sink in. “You mean,remotelytogether.”

“Well, yes ... or maybe no.”

“Meaning?”