So I don’t know if I’ve ever told y’all about my church ladies… I just had to take a deep breath and think really hard for a few minutes because I really don’t know where to start. When we moved to Greenwood, I knew I would make friends (Have you MET ME? Kidding. Sort of.) But I had no idea I would have so many close friends.
I talk about Sister Wife all the time, cuz HELLO, she’s Sister Wife— sharing everything but clothes and husbands since 2002! But y’all, I am the luckiest person I know because I have a whole little circle of friends who are Sister Wives. I am not even kidding when I say I have a GROUP of friends in this town who I could call right this very second and they would stop, drop and roll to get to my house and help me if I needed it. That— as much as anything that God has ever done in my life— amazes me.
The majority of these ladies go to church with me. And I don’t know why I’m so mushy tonight, but I feel so fortunate that I get to live my life with these people. Our kids go to school together, we go to yoga and the gym together, we run into each other at the grocery store, we pretend like we enjoy going to each other’s kids’ birthday parties. (I’m kidding– I love these ladies so much that I actually ENJOY their kids parties. No sarcasm. Really. I feel like you don’t believe me but I’m being serious.)
During the school year we meet once a week for Bible study– it’s more than that really. I’ve been trying for almost four years to put a name on what we do together. It’s like calling twerking, “dancing.” Not. The. Same. Thing. It’s a mixture of prayer, therapy and having coffee with your best friends. It’s amazing.
ANYWHO, we started up again a couple of weeks ago and we’re meeting at my house. Partly because I love having people in my home and partly because I knew that if everyone was coming here, if I try to go to my scary dark depression place, they’re all going to show up anyway and climb in the bed with me. When I get anxious and depressed, I avoid people, even the ones I love. I knew if I had everyone in my house it’d be a lot harder for me to isolate myself. (That seems sort of messed up, but whatever. I yam what I yam.)
We were talking a few weeks ago about worrying, about how the little anxieties of the day build up, and how we can lie in bed at night at let our thoughts steamroll into problems and circumstances that are probably never even going to happen. But we are still consumed by fear of what might come. My friend Anne Marie said when she feels like that she has to remind herself, “Grace will be there.”
Y’all— those words! They’ve played over and over in my head for two weeks.
GRACE WILL BE THERE.
A few days later, I stayed up almost all night writing and I scribbled those words on every page of my notes.
“Grace will be there.”
You want to know what I don’t EVER think about when I’m worrying about the future? Grace.
The kindness of people.
The fact that God, as I know Him, has not ever, not one time, ever, left me hanging. I’ve realized that most of the time I spend worrying it’s because I’m worrying about how I’m going to deal with “Insert Neuroses of Choice” alone— but I’m not alone.
I’ve got my family, more friends than a person deserves, and J-E-S-U-S. Whatever the future holds, “Grace will be there.”
That’ll preach, y’all.