The Strong Ones…
The other night, six women gathered around my dinner table. We shared comfort food and uninterrupted time. If you meet any of these individual women in their day to day life, you would marvel at their love and grace, their willingness to show up, as well their undaunted ability to get stuff done. These are women who take on their lives with wisdom and wit. They are the backbone of their homes, their workplaces, their churches, and their communities. Each of them is accomplished in her own life. They are committed mothers, wives, daughters, sisters, and friends. They are each a unique force of nature. These are
This group has many things going for it. There are women from many different stages of life, from young moms, moms of teens, empty nesters, and sassy grandmas (and a great-grandma). Many of us only see each other this one night per month as our lives pull us in disparate directions. However, when we gather, we love each other well. One of the most precious elements of our time together is that this space has become a place where we can be both. There are places in my life that require me to be strong. There are a few places that allow me to be weak. There are very few that support me when I’m both. Around this table, we have created a space for both.
In this sacred space, we are encouraged to let down our guard and share the other things we are as well- scared, lonely, tired, vulnerable, unsure, weary, wounded, and lost. Here we are able to share the beauty and wonder as well as the heartache and loss. Together we are finding a way to be both weak and strong, believers and doubters, teachers and students. We are show up transparent, vulnerable, and whole.
The other night, someone noted how easy it is to believe that everyone else is doing just fine. To look across the fence, the office, or the pew and create imaginary lives that leave out the struggle and the vulnerability for the women we know from afar. And yet, when we gather in this way, we are reminded that we are not alone in our struggle. We know that everyone struggles in theory, but up close it is another thing.
The women who gather around this table, and a whole bunch more, are relied on for their strength. We are the kind who keep showing up, tucking away our needs, our desires, and our wounds while we take care of others. I don’t know if it’s work ethic, our own personalities, or just the pressure of our lives, but we are the ones who just keep showing up. This groups nodded with a wry smile, as one described how she powered through to take care of her people, when inside all we wanted to do was curl up and cry.
Here, we are able to let the doubts that swirl in the darkness, the guilt that tangles, and the weariness that plagues our days come to the surface. There is no other life, I’d want to live, but that doesn’t mean that this one isn’t killing me some days. For this time, it isn’t about good and bad, it just about true. It is true that I am weary and worn. It is true that my soul is weak and I feel famished for rest and space to breathe. It is true that I am not yet who I want to be and anger, frustration, guilt, and fear threaten to overwhelm. It is true that I am afraid of the future, and still walking toward it.
Around this table, we show up with our strengths undiminished and our weaknesses acknowledged. This is a rare gift. Here we determine not to fix one another, but to simply know one another… and ourselves. In this age, it seems rare to get behind the perfect Facebook images, and really allow ourselves to be known. It takes courage to open up the hurting spaces, while they yet bleed. It takes tremendous trust to share our worries and our doubts.
Within this space, my strong friends can shed tears and tell their stories. They remind one another of the beauty and love it is so easy to lose sight of. We bear one another’s burdens. We believe in one another’s strength, and the power of the God who walks with us. We remind each other of the beauty of our individual dreams.
When the food is gone and the last amen has been whispered, we pack up and head back into the beautiful, complicated, messy lives we love. Our time together doesn’t change a thing. The to-do list multiplies, the responsibilities wear on us, and the wounds still hurt. And yet, we leave with our soul strengthened, our back just a bit straighter, and our heart just a bit more courageous. We have been seen, heard, and loved in all our complexity. It doesn’t change anything, but us.
