For now, I have a story about a group of my favorite ladies...
Next month marks the first anniversary of the start of our Infertile Myrtles support group. As I sat at our meeting last night, I began thinking about how far we have come in the last 11 months as a group. We were 7 strong in the middle of Panera, and we were quite a force to be reckoned with last night. Many of the women were meeting each other for the first time.
As I looked around the table, I began to think about the dangerously diverse personalities seated there together. We had the brains, the thoughtful one, the prayer warrior, the inquisitive one, the quiet humor, the realist, and the listener. This may not seem dangerously diverse, but it had the potential to be. As some of the women occasionally broke off into private conversations, I cringed, wondering how those two would get along in a one-on-one discussion.
To my surprise, it was one of the best groups we have possibly had. So many women. So many stories to tell. So many questions to ask and answer. And it just gelled.
That’s when I thought about how broken we all were. So much pain surrounded that table. We were all such different women, but our lives all had the same goal at this time. That’s what made our differences unimportant last night. And it dawned on me that in that moment, the devil was trying to knock each of us down. And right there, in the middle of Panera and in the presence of God, 7 dangerously diverse women found a way to lift each other up.
After a particularly difficult day, my soul needed to see that last night. I thank God for each of these women and their strength to come forward and seek help.