I am back home. My body is tired as we stayed up late (talking through everything) but my heart is full and my mind is enriched.
I had given up finding such a group of friends. I was resigned to trudge along. Yet I needed more that the knowledge that I have a safety net of strong friends. I am in a place where my heart aches for companionship along the way.
The odd things is that I have known these women for years. Some of them I’ve known from adolescence. So what gives? Why were we not connected before, as I feel connected to them now? I think it takes a little intentionality, vulnerability and courage. And probably a lot of trial-and-error along the way of life.
During this weekend there have been many moments of comfortable silence, paired with eager interest in the other’s story, of humor and tears, of sharing things that I didn’t think I will ever share in a group again or ever, because I thought it’s not relevant, interesting or connecting. And yet… we did not hold back. I enjoy so much watching, knowing these women. I admire their labour of love, their hearts’ desire to grow, to be better moms and wives, to be better women while we rejoice in the gifts we have, as beloved daughters of God.
We have so much in common in our diversity, and our inner turmoil and spiritual journey are so intertwined. This is pure gift and I’m a little afraid to point it out so as to have it seem like a dream.
The conversations we’ve had have given me courage and motivation to connect with my husband, and also talk about stuff with refreshed perspective. The four of us realized that we are blessed, that we’ve been blessed with amazing men to call our husbands. We also reminisced about the journey of our youth, four similar upbringings yet very different paths of how we’ve met our spouses. Alas, 36 hours of community and communion, a blog post wouldn’t and couldn’t contain such richness of connection. Likemindedness, respect for differences, pure joy of seamless acceptance.
