Giving Voice

The most interesting thing has happened over the course of the last few weeks. Some events in my very real, up-close life have conspired to completely reverse my opinions on social networking. (You can stop laughing, Dallas.) Maybe someday, I'll tell the story on these pages. For now, though, I'm uniquely grateful for the blessings born here on this blog and in the community of blogging women. I'm seeing the genuine joy a blog can be for the first time in a long time.

This morning, my dear friend Ann gave voice to a balm for the painful wounds of saddened friendships. It was a privilege and a joy to hear her dear voice across the miles as she uttered these sweet words: 

"I promise I will never speak an unkind word to or about you. I will never be jealous of you. I will never compete with you. I will never abandon or betray you. I will love you. I will pray for you. I will do all I can to help you go far and wide in the Kingdom. 

I will accept you as you are, always. I will be loyal to you. Before our loving God of grace, you have my words and my heart in friendship for this life and forever with Him.”

A gift. An amazing gift of true charity. Do listen to her whole message.

This afternoon, I was privileged to join a another dear friend across the miles. There is no wound so painful, no hurt so raw as a mother's heart just after she sends her firstborn to college. I know. Three years ago, I was there. And on the way home, I pulled over and called Dallas. (How funny, all these things keep ending up in Dallas. Huh. I'll have to think on that one day.) Anyway, I called Dallas. And the voice on the end of the phone told me to go buy a tablecloth. I can't remember why. But I remember the tablecloth. More than that, I remember the gift of love that was her voice. She was a woman "met" in the blogosphere, reaching across the miles with genuine charity.

Today, I talked with Lisa Hendey just moments after she watched her elder son take flight, bound for Harvard, three thousand miles from home. Sweet Rachel Balducci joined us--nothing like a southern accent and a warm shoulder to ease the pain and share the burden. Looking back, I still can't believe we put these moments on record and shared them. But I think they'll bless you. I know that conversation genuinely blessed me. Please listen. 

And offer a prayer for Lisa. Because it really does hurt in a way that only God can heal.