When we were little, I remember driving to church in the family station wagon…three of us in the back seat behind mom and dad. I have a distinct memory of my mom asking, most Sundays, if her hair looked ok , because she couldn’t see the back. We always, no matter what, told her that her hair looked pretty. Every time. Today, I just smile at that memory, because now I am so very at that age where I wonder things like that. This brings me to today’s post.
Last night I was at a meeting where I was sitting in the row just behind two of my dear friends. I had the opportunity to carefully look at them, which slowly shifted to realizing how much I love them.
These two women are different from me, and different from one another. I love them for different and similar reasons. I love one in a new way, because we are getting to know each other on purpose, intentionally spending time together. I think we know intuitively that there is a friendship there. Something valuable and precious…maybe quite rare. I just really like her. She’s brave and wounded, and in -process. I admire her courage, her grace, her grit. The other? I’m sort of under-her-wing, so to speak. It’s a friendship that has so much safety that I can tell her anything, and she has yet to flinch. The love and compassion that is part of her actual fiber is clearly from experience. Some days, I just want to hug her and be around her. She is wise and elegant, yet entirely inclusive. I love to watch her expand her circle. The more? The merrier. Really amazing. She means it.
This is but a moment in a life of the back of heads. You know who you are Gigi, Beth, Kathi, Amy, Tina, Donna, Toni, Brenda, Kathleen, Carolyn, Alycia…. Anne, Janet, Shirley…and so many more. I love you, and I watch you and I listen to you. You tell me the truth. You are mirrors for me. You are wise and funny and crazy . You are God-honoring and disrespectful and occasionally quite out of control. You give me hope and courage and sunlight.
By the way, your hair looks great today.