On friends...

There is one that keeps all my secrets even the ones I am ashamed to speak aloud ever again.

There is one who thinks I am funny even when my remarks are less than witty but she laughs anyway.

There is one who holds me when I cry and knows just what to say.

There is one who will spend a whole day shopping with me and tell me frankly when something does not fit.

There is one whom I can call in a pinch and will babysit my kids, come get me because I locked my keys in my car, bring me soup when I am sick, or just spend some time sitting by my side while I heal.

There is one who is honest with me and speaks truth when I won’t listen to anyone else and doesn’t give up on me even when I don’t heed advice.

There is one who prays for me, with me, over me. 

There is one who opens her home to me when I have nowhere else to go and I just need to get away.

There is one who won’t judge me no matter what I am doing and supports all my decisions, even the bad ones.

There is one who has walked in my shoes before me, and now guides me through the valleys and the peaks.

There is one with whom I have fought, reconciled, forgiven and been forgiven by again and again.

There have been seasons of my life when only one friend filled all those roles and other times when I was blessed enough to have one for each need.

Some friends have come and gone and left me a better person, some are right here right now and enrich my world every day, and some have been, are, and will forever be part of my life.

Lord, I am thankful for each one of these women. Please help me to follow your example and be like a friend who is closer than a brother and who would lay down her life for them.

Joining with Lisa-Jo for her Five Minute Fridays...

To Sara With Love

Sara died ten years ago this June.

She was barely 23 and she was newly pregnant. She was killed in her own apartment by a man whose name she never knew, and who was arrested 24 hours later for the murder of another woman a few months before. Sara’s husband found her. Her mother called me.

Sara was my best friend. We met as 16-year-olds. I was new to this country, I knew nobody, and spoke little English. I sat confused and alone in a math class that first day of our junior year of high school. This little blonde sitting in front of me turned around and said: “Hi, my name is Sara. Here is my phone number.” And that was that. We became inseparable. We had sleepovers, dated best friends, and shared secrets. I lived with her and her mom for a summer after high school and we stood by each other as we married our sweethearts. The last time I talked to Sara was a couple of weeks before she died. We talked about our marriages and the possibilities of children in the near future. She told me she was sure next month would be THE month. Her baby would have been nine-years-old this year.

After Sara died I went through a period of spiritual darkness that threatened to destroy my faith. But Sara loved Jesus and the hope of seeing her again was monumental in pushing me forward. Over the years I have dedicated to her all the milestones I have experienced that should have also been hers to enjoy. Holding my children for the first time, turning 30, wedding anniversaries, Christmases and new gray hairs. There is not a big moment of my life that I don’t feel her absence and that I am not painfully aware that Sara will not live through it as well.

As I stood before her casket the hot afternoon of her burial, unable to walk away, her brother took a rose off the spray that sat above the box and handed it to me. It was a simple gesture he has probably forgotten but I have kept that rose all these years. It is not much, but it is all I have this side of heaven.

I miss my friend.

I miss her goofy sense of humor, her beautiful singing voice, and her gentle heart. That we will see each other again is a great comfort and I praise God for that. But oh, what I would give to spend one more afternoon sharing giggles and comparing struggles with the girl who befriended me just when I needed it the most.

Who do you miss every day?

If you met me...

Linking up with the Gypsy Mama's Five Minute Fridays. Five minutes to write.

GO

If you met me first you would notice my accent and ask me where I am from. This would get me talking about a land far away where it’s never too hot and never too cold, the people are warm, the streets are crowded, and where I left half of my heart almost seventeen years ago.

If you met me I would most certainly mention my two children, ages 3 and 5, boy and girl, mischief and drama in that order. You would probably want to share stories of pregnancy and then you would find out that my children were adopted. When I show you their picture you would probably want to know from where, and I would tell you they are red, white, and blue-blooded children. You would ask how old they were when we adopted them and I would tell you they were both infants. Then you would ask the inevitable question: “are they brother and sister?” to which I would reply with a look of confusion: “do you mean are they biologically related? Yes. Yes, they happen to be.” Because after all, they are siblings because they both share the same parents, last name, home, pet, etc.

If you met me I would ask lots of questions about your kids, your husband, your background, because I would like to get the small talk out of the way (because I’m horrid at it) and get to the heart of who you are so I can really get to know you.

If you met me I would try to find a way to see you again or talk soon because all friends were once strangers.

STOP.

You in? Go find Lisa-Jo and tell us what would happen if we met you.

A Cherry On Top!

I started blogging a few months ago because I like to write, because I thought it would be an interesting experience, and because I could. Why not, right? Let’s try this and see what happens.

I had no idea it would be such an enriching experience. I also had no idea of the incredibly large and supportive online community a blog would reveal to me. I didn’t know that so many people blog, that there is a blog for just about any topic you can think of, and that there is a whole sub-culture of the blog world. It was a fascinating discovery for this anthropologist-wanna-be.

But that’s on the research side. On the human side I didn’t know blogging would make my life fuller. Seriously, who knew? I bet you did, if you have been blogging longer, but I? I was clueless. As an example, blogging has given me an excuse to spend extra time with my face-to-face friend Heather, who is my webmaster extraordinaire and has taught me the ins-and-outs of creating headers, posting pictures, and links, etc. She was my first follower, my first commenter, and my first encourager. She is my blog-mentor!

But I expected my family and friends to read, wouldn’t you? The coolest thing was to see people I didn’t know become followers and leave comments. I thought: Whoa! Other people are reading this mess? That. Is. Awesome. And then to get comments from strangers that said such and such post had touched them? I was hooked. (By the way, your comments make my day, so please don’t be shy. I love, love, love to hear from you. Then I get to go to your blog and read your stories. That I love even more.)

Heather, my aforementioned mentor, introduced me to ICWL. I joined. I commented. I received comments. I had a blast. I made new friends. Online friends who share their lives with me. How cool is that? Maybe all of this is old news to you because you are a veteran of the blog world. But do you remember what it felt like when you were new at this and it was all fresh? I may be a few years behind (as I usually am in all things technology) but I am just now being wowed by the awesomeness of it all.

So now I have a blog that gives me a chance to write some stories about the people I love most and who fill me with inspiration, a bunch of other places to go to when I want to read stories that will fill me with inspiration, and several new friends whose lives fill me with inspiration. Do you see a theme developing? You. Inspire. Me.

All of these ramblings to say this:

One of my new friends, Katherine, humbled me by giving me this award:

So now I get to pay it forward by choosing five blogs from among those amazing ones I have found and send them some love and encouragement in the shape of a little cupcake. It has been difficult to pick just five, but here they are (fanfare and drum roll…):

Reach in, reach out, reach up.

Jennifer V. Davis

Write Mind, Open Heart

Heart&Home

Superfluous Pulchritude

(Here are the rules: Link back to the person who awarded you, and then pick five blogs to pass on the award too. Make sure to comment on the awarded blogs so they know they've been picked.)

Some of these people I know personally, some I have met through this journey, some have no idea who I am, but I assure you their posts are worth reading.

There are so many others wonderful blogs and the people behind them. If you are curious, just click on any name in any of the posts’ comments sections and explore. Be warned: you may end up, like me, with a big ol’ long list of blogs to read each morning!