There are women who hold my heart.

Because they hold it tenderly.

They hold it like a treasure. They hold it with lots of trust wrapped up like so much fine, pink tissue paper.

Today we are all telling our stories about what it feels like to trust a friend. And not trust a friend. It’s a project I’ve been working on for nearly a year now.

You’re invited. Just as you are.

So let’s spend our five minutes of writing today, sharing about community. Fight it, love it, hate it, hurt or healed by it, we were certainly built for it.

Set a timer and just write. Don’t worry about making it just right or not.

Go all in with your words.

Are you ready?

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Please visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments.

OK, are you ready? Give me your best five minutes on:

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Community…

:

GO:

Every Tuesday night I meet up with a group of women. Sometimes in room 108 at church and every other week at Panera. We’re suckers for the broccoli cheddar soup. Connie always wears the most beautiful jewelry. And Christy sometimes brings baby Taylor and it’s hard to swallow past that lump in the throat one gets when in the presence of a new, baby woman.

We eat and talk and sometimes we laugh so hard the guy who vacuums gives us that old stink eye. No one leaves with an empty belly or heart.

We eat up community like so many cinnamon crunch bagels.

I’ve lived a long time here in the Internet. I’m getting better at living out loud and in real life too.

It feeds me.

It nourishes my soul.

Hugging Mrs. Santiago so tight and hearing Carol share about her journey into the heart of the heart of motherhood. That and what nail “schlacking” is.

Jessica amazes us by turning vegan and sticking to it.

Sometimes my hair is washed and other times it isn’t. Sweat pants are always welcome. But Shawna will rock the 6 inch heels.

These are my people. They know about the impending new puppy and the week of diahorrea the four-year-old has put us through.  When they ask me how I’m doing, I know I’m going to need to come up with more than, “just fine.”

STOP

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{Subscribers, you can just click here to come over and play along}

And I’m particularly fond of how my friend Holley – in the middle of the photo up there – described community today over on (in)courage.

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I think motherhood should come with a super hero cape and a cheerleader.
My {free} ebook The Cheerleader for Tired Moms might be the next best thing.
Enter your email address and it’s coming your way just before Mother’s Day!

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