Slippin' past the small talk...

Let us be grateful to people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom. - Marcel Proust

One of the job hazards of a SAHM is not a lack of relationships, but limited opportunities to enjoy both small-talk camaraderie and safe moments to slip beyond the routine things of life. Regular points of connection - church nursery, committee meetings, play dates with kids in tow, and the occasional evening out don't usually lend themselves to conversation that goes deeper, more trusting, more care-full.

So when such a gift arises, I consider it a gift; a beautiful, unexpected wildflower in a garden that is well tamed, well organized. My first impulse is to attempt to make this blessing a regular part of my routine. To try to organize my way through life to make room for such authenticity. I suppose that's not a bad thing, however I'm learning more to stop, give thanks and gratitude for such a friend, and treasure the moment.

In every season of life God has graciously planted some of these wildflowers along my way. Some are close by, some far off; and the gift is always surprising, always blessing. Precious people who will laugh and cry with me in the same sentence, those who give me space to "be" and those who say " I KNNOOOOW!" - and they do!! Somehow, we "get it" and the connection is made.

When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares. - Henri Nouwen

Thank you for such friends.