Help a fellow writer out.:) Her art is awesome, too.
I read Dawn’s words in the introduction of her new book, The Gift of Friendship: Don’t let anyone tell you that a friendship that begins online lacks a foundation. Treasure friendship in whatever form it comes. I wanted to weep.
Instead, my mind kept repeating: Someone understands! while I smiled to myself. It’s difficult to explain to people how close you can become to others through having a blog. Though it doesn’t happen immediately, I think it may have something to do with sharing our hearts through writing, there is an ease in slowly opening to another soul a distance away. A kind of community you don’t expect.
I’ve experienced this with the older woman I’ve met through social media and real life friends my age who don’t live close. As in right down the street.
This book is a collection of stories about the desire we all for deep relationships and the beauty, often struggle to cultivate them. Because I can’t dive into every story that touched me, I’m going to pick out a few that made me think.
Dawn Camp’s story, What You Can Do When Life Storms Hit, how God reaches out when you don’t want to impose. When my grandma passed in 2014, I ached in a way I still don’t understand. A few women through my blog have continued to pray for me, ask me how I am, let me come with all my crazy, and remind me God loves me.
He hears me. Keep bringing Him my heart. It’s a quick text or email of encouragement that has held me together, making me grateful I started a blog and for the way God has weaved friendships I never saw coming.
In another story by Ananda Williams, she shares her own struggle with grief.
Sometimes, in the worst times, you need someone to be you, so you can just be.
In the midst of grief, I’ve watched how God has used two friends in real life, traveling miles to show me joy that comes into the dark. They’ve let me be quiet, staring off into space. Mad. Weepy.
Through books, music, prayer, food, time and laughter, they’ve shown up without giving me chance to deny. They’ve loved me anyway and I’m thankful for the way we give to each other despite the distance.
If you are a mom or a woman who struggles in the friendship area, this book will be a sigh of relief.
If you’re a guy, this book will open your eyes to female friendships, but will help you appreciate your own friendships as well.
You will cherish longtime friends and the new ones beginning.
Since I decided to clean out my inbox this morning, I found this beautiful, heartbreaking poem in the all rubble. Thanks for continuing to inspire me Rachel. ❤
My young mind couldn’t fathom the thrashing
and jerking of the woman who seemed
to throw herself backwards against the floor.
We’d come to the video store to get movies
and a Nintendo game for my sister and I to pass
the weekend with. Momma, always so calm and easy,
led us away from the ruckus, never knowing
what was rolling around in my head.
“The devil’s done got her,” I thought,
“ain’t nobody that can save her now.”
Trying to occupy our minds so we wouldn’t see
any more of the devil taking that woman over,
Momma told us to pick out our movie and to stay
in the back of the store. But with curious eyes, I spied
through the shelved walls the EMTs rush in.
The woman, still shaking on the floor, had bloodied
the back of her head. Other customers, who’d been holding
her still, let…
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I say, it is raining awesomely outside.
Yess. I exclaim with as much enthusiasm a screen allows.
It’s barely spending over here.
That is a very interesting description.
I try imagining Heaven spending tears
I’ve taken sorrowful meant jubilant –
question she’ll soon answer.
I don’t know h(ow)is that happened!
And my spirit lifts.
Author’s Note: this is one of many typical conversations with Megan. Last night’s topic: rain. I absolutely, 1000% love being her friend. Not only because she introduced me to Starbucks cake pops, has lovely taste in books, jewelry, an amazing listener, but for the fact she makes me laugh so so much. I can’t thank God enough for who he’s put in my life to walk beside me from hours/states away.
Sometimes I wish I could give more than my poetry/a bajillion hugs/rambles/quiet to the people i love near & not, but it really helps focus on this truth. (I loved rediscovering this entire album just now. This particular song brought me to tears again..) But the more I unravel and thank him, I feel him draw so much closer. I can’t wait for this: Then shall your light break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up speedily; your righteousness shall go before you; the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard. (Is. 58:8), but this valley has begun to teach me thankfulness for small. It floods my heart enough now, not sure I could handle huge.
And now, I’m going to curl into these blankets, because my body wants me to get the full resting experience from these lullabies ..
Three things that inspired me today:
1. My mom’s uncanny ability to make me smile.
2. A tangelo.
Thanks for making me smile today, Syl. 🙂
I wake up to a buzzing phone.
Not as incessant as bees or flies,
but persistent enough to pull
my attention open for this day’s
I scan the screen,
the familiar greeting of an old friend
capturing my gaze.
I echo back this sentiment
we’ve traded over times
both unsure & joyous.
I can’t help wondering why
she has been compelled to talk to me.
Day after day
I find my words becoming
how overwhelming Your love
touches the timidest souls —
mine always coiling the tiniest bit
at the thought I deserve this.
I want to tell her this.
I want to make these key strokes
matter more than this stale hey
we let dictate our conversations
open-ended topics of football, resumes, etc.
I won’t hide this truth:
I don’t understand why.
You will show Yourself.
I’m sorry I become hasty,
despairing because I know she’s lonely.
And there have been days
I have felt caring hands take
hold off of me.
I cried, doesn’t anyone love me?
I’m in a hurry
to rush her into welcoming arms,
hoping, wishing, pleading change
will come break her open.
A floodgate of tears falling
finding You standing by,
unlike my moods
or footsteps pointing
to, then away from helpful.
Have mercy on me.
I was not born with Savior as my title.
She belongs to You.
As I do.
I only long to give her friendship,
though thank you may never come.
I’m sorry I’ve demanded such a request,
when I struggle expressing my gratitude for Your death,
so I could aptly name the salty taste
found on my quivering lips as I speak,
I love having friends who love poetry and write beautifully. God has blessed me so much by bring this girl in my life. Check her blog out 🙂 She’s got good taste in music, too 😉 And MANY other things..love you, Megan! ❤
We are like the sky–
Our colors are but reflections of that which has passed through our lives.
We are based on that which is the bluest of blues,
But our yellows and reds make oranges,
And once the mixing begins, it never ends.
We are like the sky–
We are constantly changing,
Churning our atmospheres into what was once unknown
And never will be known again.
Red and blue will always make purple
But magenta, plum, and lavender are far cries from each other.
We are like the sky–
What is true about me may be true about you, too.
All skies have stars, but not all in the same places.
Sometimes, all it takes to get to know someone
Is turning around to view from his perspective.
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