
It’s risky … trying to be real, telling the truth, showing weakness, being vulnerable … not saying “fine” to most asked question (how are you?).
And, let’s face it … we cannot be that real, that risky, with just anyone. For not all souls are comfortable, ready to hear and see and feel for themselves, the truth within another.
Last week I agonized about sharing a realty for me. Would it be
too much?
too whiny?
too downcast?
too … real?
I agonized to the point of praying about it for a significant amount of time.
But, in the end I kept coming back to the same small voice in my head,
if it is something you struggle with, Carole,
maybe there is someone out there with the same struggle
and …
to know we are not alone can be the most encouraging message to hear.
So, with an ample amount of chagrin, I wrote and posted Cry Me an Atmospheric River.
And the pms and dms and emails began to pour in …
messages of encouragement, understanding, but also of common experience with the dark days of winter. Some stated they didn’t share the same winter blues, but that they were praying. Another asked my mailing address and then proceeded to mail to me a lovely note that brought me to tears.
It reminded me that I am so blessed by the women who I call friends. It reminded me to that it is the simple, easy and inexpensive efforts that mean the most. That I need to remember to send messages that simply say, thinking of you, for, doesn’t it just send a shockwave of joy through our souls to know that we are being thought of? prayed for? appreciated? that someone cared enough to take the five minutes (tops) to send us a reminder that
we. are. not. alone.
May we support each other, holding each other up as we sag under the weight of life’s gravity. May we be the hands and feet of God himself, in watching over each other.
I wish for my children
Samantha Reynolds
friends like the ones I’ve collected:
flawed and forgiving,
braced for laughter,
good huggers
whose words roll like water
to the places in me
I didn’t even know
were dry.