• Kindred

    Tuesday, March 15, 2011

    My treasured friends. It has been some days since I scrawled my heart. I was quickly wrapped in your care words, comfort gifts. You stun me with your friendship, your sweet spirits extending oceans and miles and found me safe in this community of beauties.

    ~ I thank you ~

    I am still raw. You must ~ know this. Loss aches fresh. And I only know this mothering pain recent. I am grieving but still finding humbled thanks. Today in the wake of rushing nature a whole nation of mothers will throw heavy dirt on babes death beds, and weep unimaginable grief. Today I am choosing to cling to the life that is around me, and find beauty in their faces.

    May I speak of another grief? It is a lonely debilitating separation of God’s miracles! It takes us breathless through a torrent of emotions.

    Let me share…

    I was busy thinking thoughts ~ prayerfully ~ for you, ~ this world of women, when my sister called. She told me precious names of Monday’s Mothering community. I was so honoured to know I journey motherhood with women, brave brilliant and true. And then she slipped me pure sadness ~ that you ~ shy! You wonder if comments are really welcomed!

    I took these thoughts heavy into the night, journeyed to church with this weight. As my husband sang heaven lyrics, I ~ I ~ stood broken, a tear rushing mess. With the smudges of my weakness yet still on my skin, a beauty sister ~ mother ~ greeted me. Oh I wondered at her, a marvel of God’s artistry, shining, perfectly her. But she talked of comparing and measuring and distancing speaking utter crazy about herself! And all I could think was how and who would every want to measure a life given to them against life given to another! If you ~ my sweet friends ~ find a measuring ruler in these pages, that would shake me broken! I would rather burn these pages, lost forever, fold this story away.

    I desire only to join you, grow friendship, love you this `~ wild ~ modern way of meeting daily. I can see only beauty in my story if it links hands to bless.

    I respect busyness and understand needing a place to come quite, read and leave. My friend if there is another reason…

    Please know my story is the lines of a real and tangible life. I have failed ugly and I have wept deep, I have a daily history of humanness, I search beauty and crave heaven ~ this is my journey journal. If I could I would sit with you at Starbucks share a tea and a laugh and because we are women, slip tears. But I live far…

    So may I invite you, earnestly, to join me in this blogging way of friendship. Some have asked for the comment section to open, really? Will this help? Is it truly less intimidating then an email? I am of the Kindred Spirit cloth. And pray, wish, hope, hold my breath, to be a friend of yours!