One Plate at a Time

I have not always been a girl’s girl. Growing up in a neighborhood of boys, I played hard and long with my brother and his friends; eschewing Barbie and her crew for tall leafy trees to climb; deep cool ravines to run rampant in; and the half-built cinder-block structures near the soccer field in the park that made a great fort. This trend continued all through school as I made friends with the girls, but kept my best friendships for the guys and their ability to keep things simple and uncomplicated.

Fast-forward twenty-something years in my life and I’m all about my women friends. My grown up girlfriends. I’m still a fringe-of-the-party kind of loner, but there are a handful that I hold close to my heart. I’d seen some of them online before I met them in person – friends of friends who shared a monthly supper club in common – I’d see their likes and comments on mutual friends' Facebook posts; hear about them at church gatherings; come into a conversation where someone told a story about someone else and there that name was again. And then I met them.

One night in December; squeezing together around a booth in a Chinese restaurant and spilling out the sides – I said hello for the first time – ducking immediately into introvert mode as the laughter, holiday cheer, and swapping of dishes swirled around me. I recognized faces, now suddenly blooming in real life around me, and thought, I could do it. I could be friends here.

The Girls and I at the Hub on a summer afternoon

Month by month I came back. Came as we celebrated birthdays; set goals; caught up on life moving at break-neck pace; talked about kids; laughed some more, ate some more – always at a different favorite place.

There was a space of time where we actually broke for a while. Things happen in any group of friends, they always do, and for a while there was a large, empty space where this cluster of companionship used to be. Then the May birthdays said “oh, why not, let’s just do it again and see who comes,” and it was off and running. A little bit of the same. A little bit different. But still together. And still dinner. And still God-blessed and holding on and praying together and for each other.

Technology adds a new dimension now - and it’s a great place to connect when we can’t be together. We post prayer requests, struggles with family, our hopes for our children, death, cancer, chronic illness that feels like it’s killing us, custody battles, unemployment, the things that wear us so thin we feel we can’t breathe, joys, those wonderful moments you just have to share right this second – and then we have those times we’re together again. And it’s all of us, around another table; everyone hugging hello; passing menus and deciding what to order; trying to play catch up and breathe in the life that flows from one to another when we are connected.

These are the connections that happen over chow mein and cheese plates. Over crab dip and chardonnay. Over corn salad and enchiladas. These connections weave us together; intertwining our lives, so that when things happen – good or bad – when I reach for the phone to call or text, it’s these women I’m reaching out for; their prayers I’m asking for;  their voices I want to hear – laughing or crying with me. I’m blessed to have been brought to them; blessed to have been welcomed in by them; blessed to be adding our stories together, one plate at a time.

I'm thrilled to be featured as a Second Helpings guest post with the Bloom (in)courage Book Club. We've been reading the wonderfully tasteful Bread & Wine: A Love Letter to Life Around the Table, by Shauna Niequist. Special thanks to Alia Joy from Narrow Paths to Higher Places and Robin Dance from (in)courage and Pensieve.me for their support and encouragement on my very first guest post.

And be sure to visit Anna {a girl with a blog} - I'm her second helpings today. And she's just lovely. 

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!