She was introduced to me as a stranger, this woman who shared the drive to a writers conference. But within five miles we connected, as women often do when they share about their broken hearts, lifelong dreams and always always — their beloved children.
We discovered our common links: college football, country living, the love of animals, months of painful therapy, the ethic of hard work, unsweetened iced tea and browsing through thrift stores.
But we also shared the lifelong dream of writing. So after we finished baring our souls, we stopped for a refill of iced tea and talked shop.
She dreamed of a children’s book, maybe a series. Her desire for the writers conference was to learn more about publishing and marketing. She listened carefully to my experiences and ideas for a possible blog.
Both of us had earned degrees in education, so we knew the value of learning — for others but also for ourselves. One of the fun issues with writing is that learning always continues. A life-long course.
Another connecting point was that both of us were mothers of sons. Proud of the men they had become. Blessed because we made it through those adolescent years when the larvae of manhood simultaneously made us grit our teeth and laugh into our pillows.
She was blessed with several acres where she planted gardens, decorated with bird houses and roamed with her loyal dogs.
My life was stuck in limbo land, living in the city yet craving for sunsets without buildings and the solace of quiet labor.
Yet with all our emotional connections, one fiber spanned any differences and wound itself through our eternal destinies.
We loved the same God.
Neither of us quite understood why our loving God allowed us to be members of the gray divorce club. Yet both of us were certain we would trust this same God with the rest of our lives.
Hope grows when we meet other pilgrims along the road of life and discover common connections. When our heart stirrings become reasons to pray for each other, to spend time and energy getting to know one another.
Then as we embrace our eternal bond, we no longer call each other strangers. Instead, we lock hearts as family.
©2021 RJ Thesman – All Rights Reserved
Check out the beautiful children’s series written by Rogene McPherson.