Not too long ago our family sat down to a typical dinner—especially typical because I kept pleading with my children to eat what was in front of them. Apparently fed up with this, Bitty stood up in his chair, and emphatically pointed his finger in my direction, “You eat your dinner, OLD LADY!”
Pearly-Q and I completely broke into peals of laughter. Where a child at that age had come up with age as an insult to his mother, I’ll never know. Thankfully, it didn’t bother me, and I have since smirked with silent delight whenever I hear the phrase. As a result, whenever I have gone to spend time with my book club I always tell my kids with tongue-in-cheek amusement that I’m going to spend time with “the old ladies.” That way, I figure they won’t realize they’re missing out on anything. The real truth of the matter is, if they had any idea how much fun I have with these women, my kids would beg to accompany me each time.
This last weekend was a perfect example of this phenomenon. For just a few choice days, my book club got together for our 2nd annual retreat, complete with lots of time in the car, sharing music, pampering at the spa, eating good food, recharging emotional batteries, walking, watching movies, laughing, and dancing like what else?—“old ladies,” of course.
Truth is—the time I spend with these women can be magical. Though each of us is so unique and different, we share the common joy of celebrating each others’ triumphs while also mourning each others’ losses. Whether it is weathering the storms of ill health, the challenge of caring for aging parents, difficult marriages/children, miscarriage, infertility, financial frustrations, or just rejoicing in new life, new opportunities, or other healing, we are there for one another. We realize that when one of us is down, there is another to strengthen us—all the time realizing that one day the direction of need may be reversed. This is friendship at its best—a place where appearances, social standing, or material wealth mean nothing, but where character and love mean everything.
At our last breakfast together, a member of the book club said a prayer with something that astonished all of us. She asked that we may “always breathe deeply, laugh loudly, and love eternally.” Astounded by the wisdom of that simple phrase (spoken by an English teacher, of course), I ran to write down her words. I recorded them because I felt it embodied much of what I’d basked in for those few days—the joy of feeling love from so many women that I’ve come to respect.
Women need each other, and when other distractions from the world’s expectations of us don’t get in the way, we can really get down to business and become the people God expects us to be. It’s the perspective that all too often doesn’t come until later in life . . . which means, being called an “old lady” ain’t so bad after all.
