Our mother had died several months before and for most of that time I was frozen in grief, unable to cry, feeling lost, and unsure of my place in the world. Then one Sunday morning, I walked out of my bedroom to where she was in the living room. I cannot remember what she said that invited me into her arms, but she held me as the dam broke and I cried for what seemed like hours. She, my sister Cy .
She, my sister M, who would join Mom in heaven several decades later, spoke to me one day while I was in the midst of being blind to my own beauty, my own worthiness. “You are beautiful, my sister. You are.” How did she know I needed those words? I believed her and my perspective of myself changed.
She, Elizabeth, the sister who is gentle in spirit and is always available for prayer whenever, wherever.
She, D, the sister who is my greatest fan and becomes fierce in my defense.
B Ann, WR, G, JE, E … so may gifts, so lovingly given over the years.
Naj, K, J, EM, J.
M, my childhood friend who never forgets my birthday. Other friends this time and space will not allow me to mention.
Classmates. Store clerks. Teachers. Pastors. Colleagues. Strangers on buses and other modes of transportation. All females who have blessed my live in diverse ways. Thank You for them all, Abba.
Linking up with Lisa Jo and friends at http://lisajobaker.com/five-minute-friday. The prompt is “She.”