Shoot! I don’t have any tissue nor a sleeve long enough to suffice as a tear dabber. No! NO! I don’t want to cry!
There has been a longing that I’ve felt, written about, prayed about, talked to my husband about, talked to a distant friend about that just hasn’t truly been satisfied.
I’m blessed with women virtually surrounding me every day…but,
There is only so much of me that she can see.
There is only so much of her that I can see.
I can’t look in her eyes and see what she does.
I can’t reach out a hand and pat her shoulder because I know her hurt.
I can’t receive the hug after a weepy conversation.
I can’t see the joy on her face the moment she get that good news.
I can’t do family get-togethers.
I can’t sit across the table from her and dig into God’s Word; those spiritual talks.
I can’t hear the giggle or joking in her voice, or the seriousness of lovingly getting a point across.
I can’t do REAL.
In talking with my husband after service he asked me a lip biting question. “What have you done to open up to others?”
I mumbled some answer that I don’t even remember now. Whatever it was, it was probably some kind of lame excuse.
Truly, my life isn’t that messed up to the point that I have to open up like that…right?
It isn’t even that I don’t open up. The opportunity to do so hasn’t been there on a consistent basis.
Gwen Smith says it best in her post Friends That Sharpen:
“As much as I love girlfriend time — and I truly do love girlfriend time — there’s a depth to this particular friendship that flows to the core of who I am. I often feel uncommonly exposed during our conversations. I feel vulnerable, yet safe. She gets in my grill about my priorities, marriage, mothering, ministry, and faith matters . . . and I welcome it. I need it.”
THAT is what its all about for me!
I know without a doubt that women deal or struggle with this.
There are women that actually have this. God bless you!
I’m continuing to trust and thank God for this connection. I have come to realize moments ago that I must put feet to what I desire. I can’t expect God to bring a friend to my door. I gotta reach out.
Living With Sword and Coffee,