Years ago, I had been praying for a group of godly friends. I had this vision of a “Girl Gang,” replete with matching outfits, backyard BBQs with our hubs and weekend mountain getaways, posting pics on Insta with my #BFFs, ridiculous grins plastered on our faces. Because life was gonna be that amazing and this fictionalized group was gonna be THE. BEST. EVERRRR.
We joined a new church around that time and there was a group of women with kids about the same age – Sweet women, great families.
I just knew I’d be booking a VRBO with them any day.
While they were friendly, two things became obvious:
- They had a Girl Gang already, and
- They weren’t taking applications.
I found myself on the outside looking in. And instead of brushing it off and giving them a wide berth of assumption (thank you Brene Brown for that term!), I got my feelers all bruised thinking I was defunct and they didn’t want me. (Which was ridiculous, for the record. They were never unkind, they were just tight knit and had no idea anyone else wanted to join their club.)
He’s so good, isn’t he?!
Over the past decade, God has graciously given me a couple of women that I am grateful to call friend. They’ve cheered me on when I took the leap of faith to start the podcast, showed up when my mom died a few years ago, and pushed me to go deeper in my walk with the Lord.
It’s been a back and forth, a give and take.
Normal, sometimes gritty life, lived out side-by-side.
Sitting on the couch when one of us ran away, until they had the strength to go back home.
Bible Study, and coffee afterward because they needed more time to talk.
Not talking for a stretch, but picking right back up when we reconnected.
Cheering her on. Letting me vent.
Whispering secrets we trust they’d hold. And they do.
Meals after surgery.
Walks through the neighborhood with knowing silence.
Texts to remind us we are doing ok, we’re in it together, and this too shall pass.
Laughing until our sides hurt.
Crying because this world is just more than we can bear sometimes.
It hasn’t been BBQs or matching t’shirts or girls trips.
And it certainly doesn’t look like the Girl Gang I had pictured.
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