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Several evenings a week, I get together with a few dear friends for company, conversation, and support. It’s a casual, come-as-you-are get-together; I’ve even been known to attend in jammies and slippers. Most of us bring something to munch on. We come and go as we please. The threads of our conversations form a tangled tapestry.
We are all women of that time of life when we have been occasionally startled to see, in the mirror, our mother’s face. We have ridiculous adult children who appear to have learned little from us. Our houses have rooms with new furniture, as family members have left to take up residence elsewhere. New furnishings now decorate our hearts as well, with each new grandchild, great-niece or nephew, and in-law.
We have carried one another through illness, depression, and loss. We have rejoiced at new life, forgiveness, and personal triumph. We have laughed at our own clumsiness and at each other’s foibles.
Although we are of widely varied circumstances, we are bound by our common faith. Women of persistent prayer, we are like the widow in Luke 18, known to pester God until He relents.
Most of us have never met. Tossed together serendipitously by the wonder of the internet, we gather in cyberspace and chat with flying fingers.
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