Hopefully, this will be one of the last posts on this blog. We're very close to launching the brand-new website with giveaways and pictures and all kinds of great stuff. Stay tuned right here, and I'll announce it the minute it's ready!
"Mama, come jump!" It's Little, my blue-eyed, suntanned Child of Summer. He's grinning at me, eager for me to join him.
I sigh, overwhelmed with exhaustion, sidelined by fatigue and bone-deep weariness. But he's expecting me. I'm invited, so I go.
We jump together. "You stay over there," I tell him. "You're stealin' my bounce, and it's making my legs tired." He grins, ornery like, then giggles out loud.
He stands atop the tire swing. "If you sit down, I'll push you," I say. He lowers himself, gripping the rope, legs dangling. He's ready.
"It's a boy club here," he informs me. Swoop. "Not a girl club." Swoop.
"I know," I say, a world of understanding in my voice.
"I hate girls." Swoop. He sounds for all the world like one of the Little Rascals and a member of the He-Man, Woman-Haters Club.
"But what about me?" I say. "I'm a girl."
"Not you. You're my mother. You don't hate mother-girls." Swoop. His bare feet are dirty, and there are smudges just below the knee on the right. Swoop.
Girls. I think of the girls - my friends - who've been especially dear to me this year. Names, faces scroll through my mind. I'm so thankful, I tell my husband, for the kindred spirits in my life who live nearby, sticking tight, sticking close. For those who live far away, sprinkled here, sprinkled there. All those girls...
Treasures found in far-flung places, they are. One at a committee meeting. Two at the coffee shop. One in a salon. One through the pages of a magazine. Some from my past, and some through this blog.
They're the face of God, shining light. They're the voice of God, speaking truth. They reveal the heart of God, showing no-matter-what kind of love. When they talk, I listen 'cause I know who they're listening to. I love these girls, my friends.
I love what you stand for, how you live. I love you for all you've done. I love you, those who've been spiritual mothers for me in a way my own mother could not.
For every word of encouragement, every nugget of insight. For every prayer you've raised and for huggin' my neck. For the texts, phone calls, emails, and messages, I'm grateful. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
And now you - what girls do you love? Who are your gifts straight from Jesus?
11 comments:
This brings to mind a song my kids sang when they were little about a true friend sticking closer than a brother. Is there a verse like that too? A friend who you can really be yourself with is a treasure.
You are a blessing.
Yes, there is. And our boys had a tape with that song on it as well. So precious!
You're one of my kindred spirits, you know, and I don't take it for granted. :) Hugs.
When I read that Little hated girls I had an image of Alphalfa popped into my head.
Does this mean he's forgotten about wanting a baby sister? ;)
Hahaha! Good question. You're exactly right about the Alfalfa image. And I have no idea where that came from, his thing about girls. We were talking, he and I, about the baby sister of some of his good friends. He just loves her and says, "She's so cute!" So he's all over the map.
My gifts from Jesus are those gals in my life that are, as you wrote, a treasure. They're not 'foyer friends' (those ladies in the foyer of church with whom you exchange Sunday morning pleasantries). They are the ones who I laugh with, do 'coffee' with, text with, blog with. They are the ones I know will speak words of truth in love to me. (Even when I don't want to hear them) ;)
You're a blessing Rhonda! I'm very excited to hear about your new website! Can't wait to see it!
~Deb
Deb, the truth speaking? That's partly what I meant. They can tell me something and I listen because I know Who they're listening to. I can receive it, too, because they have such a lovely way of delivering truth that it makes me WANT to listen. No paddling, in other words.
And they're not, as you so aptly described it, 'foyer friends.' Although we have to have those, too.
Waving from clear up here in the heat, friend,
R.
I love that - "mother-girls". We are totally different from those regular girls, this is true. So I guess this means the little sister thing has been suspended for now? So sorry to bring it up, but that was the first thing that popped into my head when I heard the boy club thing. :) I'm thinking you're not upset by the boy club thing in that respect.
I too, am extremely grateful for my girl friends, far and near. I've a very dear handful, ones that understand orange purses and family challenges, and encourage me by telling me that I don't really look like an angry bird when I get frustrated with certain people. Ones that text and shop together even while apart.
They are treasures to my heart, and gifts right from God. So blessed, us girls are, to have other girls.
Sending girl hugs your way,
Karen
Amen.amen.amen. See, I couldn't even put that any better than you just did. This is why I love you.
I grew up in a 'girls club' with three sisters but I'm living in a boys club. I miss all the girl fun and look forward to visiting my sisters who have six more girls between them!
I treasured time this morning with a friend I've known all of my adult life. I moved away geographically and was so caught up in a "new life" that we could have lost our connection. But she didn't let that happen. And now I've moved back and once again we enjoy sharing each others company with more frequency.
And like you, I count as friends a variety of "girls" and thank God for all of them - and YOU!
And I for you, Rebecca. Happy weekend, friend!
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