on sisters and swimming holes

So we had our day at the river. And wouldn't you know it? We somehow managed to plan our river-side picnic during the one rainy afternoon in an otherwise hot stretch of weather. But we're resourceful, we Calvary women. We only soaked ourselves a half hour before one of us was bright enough to suggest we move our chairs and other paraphernalia under the bridge.

I enjoyed being with my friends and sisters. I often feel like a reporter when I'm sitting in the midst of them. At one point, I even pulled an index card from my purse, borrowed a pen from Fran and started recording the snippets of conversation flying across our circle.

"Anyone want some Pepperjack Doritos? You have got to try these," one urged.

"Nah. I can have 51 pretzel sticks for only 150 calories."

"I finally found a bra that fits," another announced. This was followed by a lively discussion in which the pretzel eater enlightened us to the fact that of the 27 pounds she had just lost, she believed nearly all of it came from her "chestal area." (Edited by the poster.)

She went on to say that she refused to give in and switch from a D to a B because that would be too sad. "I'll get enhancements before I do that," she laughed.

This led, naturally, to a discussion of liposuction, and the horror stories we'd all heard about that. "My sister-in-law said it was the most painful experience of her life," one warned.

Of course, immediately following that topic, we discussed the merits of fruit snacks shaped like Peanuts characters, and our particular favorite lipstick shades (Diana swears by Clinique's Black Honey, while I talked up Burt's Bees Rhubarb not only because it's cheap and it looks good, but also because of that lucious tingle you experience when it first goes on.)

We watched each other's kids, fed each other's kids, and swapped cute and/or poignant kid stories. One woman, separated from her husband, told me what her just-turned-three year old told her after she cried during a recent phone call with her husband. "Mommy, when you talk on the phone with Daddy, your sad bleeds."

We had nothing to give her but looks of love--and an unspoken promise that we'll be here for her, regardless of what happens; that we'll pray for her husband and ask God for a miracle; that she'll always have this circle of comfort to run to.

Last night, Dave and I spent an hour with another couple in need of counseling. Just before we prayed together, the husband said, "It's easy for people to say, 'I don't need church. I can do this on my own.' But I know differently now. I know why it's significant to have a church family. The truth is, I can't do this on my own."

Amen to that.