My dress hangs loose but I can’t fit into my jeans yet. It’s only been a few months since giving birth to my first child when a friend stops me in the church lobby. We both carry car seats with newborns like purses dangling on arms when she pleads with me to start something for new moms. A play group, bible study, anything – because she’s desperate.
She speaks teary of loneliness, isolation and tired that smothers joy. We’re the same age, wear the same dark circles of new motherhood, but I’m the pastors wife and his wisdom shadows me capable.
I think about how just weeks before, I stood in the closet with hot tears staining cheeks, admitting to him how unprepared I felt to raise a life. What does the only child of a single mother that spends most nights romancing a cheap bottle of wine know about being a mother?
Bravery comes as an unexpected gift, attached to the heels of new life for a mother. I grasp that gift like a fish flopping on the kitchen counter and say yes, I’ll do it. Provide a community where weary hearts can rest, find solace in the reflection of their kindred kind.
They flock like birds to scattered seeds on new grass at the beginning of spring. Wear those car seats and diaper bags as badges of honor for the price of shoulders to lean on. Savor His wisdom from Words of Life once a week.
And weary hearts that once lay scattered like rags around the city quickly become a vibrant community in parks pushing swings, around backyard pools and barbecues, lunching beside plastic cities at McDonalds.
Our kids drive cars now and the mothers, we spread out to where His finger points. We worry about the price of gas, college entrance, and fine lines; marvel at how time really does fly, and wonder how silent life will feel just around the corner.
When I reflect upon conversations between many of those same women today, I realize that it doesn’t take years of experience or eloquent speech to build a community of lifelong companionship. Just a bit of holy bravery rooted in compassion to listen to the voice of destiny, and then say yes.
Sometimes that yes yields a harvest of flourishing families. A lifelong look into eyes that share the sacred pilgrimage of becoming the people He created us to be.
So, get going. I’ll be right there with you—with your mouth! I’ll be right there to teach you what to say. Exodus 4:11, The Message
Have you ever wanted to lead something? Perhaps pioneer something new but stuttered in stepping out because of a lack of experience? Let’s talk about it and encourage one another here in the comments.
By Shelly Miller, Redemptions Beauty