Sisterhood

The love, y'all. The love I have for these incredible people. I cannot even explain it.

Ultimately, sisterhood is a soft place to land, and we can send each other out with full blessings knowing we can safely come home to one another. I want to be ever for you, and you for me. --Jen Hatmaker, For the Love
Well, hello! It's been a while since I've written anything--well, since February, to be exact. Lots going on. Lots to do. Lots of thinking and pondering before I was ready to write anything. Things in Texas are wonderful. We are loving our first Texas experience. (I haven't been to Texas since about 1990. So...there's that.) We are happy with our church here, the house is wonderful, John loves school, Hannah is settled in Mobile, and Sarah Beth and DJ are figuring out adult life in Arkansas pretty well. So that's the update.

If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you know that I am reading (actually, I finished it this morning) Jen Hatmaker's newest book, For the Love. It is a wonderful read. Some really deep, thoughtful pieces on various subjects (it's basically a book of essays, which really appeals to me), but also some chapters that are so laugh-out-loud funny that I old-geezer laughed and forced Marc to listen as I read them aloud. I know he loved it. Really.

I love the book. I'm partial to Jen Hatmaker, who graduated from my alma mater, Oklahoma Baptist University, though several years after I did. I get her humor. I share some of her passions. (I would never attempt home renovation. Never. I am wayyyyy too type A for that business.) But I think the thing I loved about the book the most were the things she had to say about women and community. Since I am watching Hannah form what will become some of her greatest friendships in life at University of Mobile, and since I am at a point in my own life where I deeply, deeply value friendships with women, I found Hatmaker's thoughts on sisterhood relevant to my own life.

If you read the news on the Christian front, you know that our company is downsizing by at least 600-800. Tough times, to be sure. Even worse, uncertain times. (I can face whatever hardship is in front of me. But NOT KNOWING???? Seriously enough to drive me a little nuts.) This is not really a post about that situation, because I know nothing. Really, guys. I'm not being coy. No idea what the future holds. (Yes, yes. I know Who holds the future. If you're an eighties kid who grew up in an evangelical church, can you help but hear that song?) But certainly, no one in the IMB is immune to the pressure and stress that come with this kind of upheaval. Even if it doesn't impact you personally at the moment (we, for example, are too young for the voluntary retirement incentive being offered), it is impacting everyone who knows and loves anyone in the organization. That's not an opinion. That is a fact. Period.

In the midst of all this uncertainty and stress, though, I am deeply grateful for an abundance of community and sisterhood in my life right now. I have mentioned often that I am an introvert, and that I am not a huge group person. I was never the most popular girl in class, and I was never very concerned with that. The pattern of two or three really close friends in my life has always really worked for me. But at this moment, sitting in McKinney, Texas, I find myself with so much united sisterhood. Of course, it doesn't hurt that my actual sister lives a few miles away, plus my other sister who, if I said two words (please come), would be here in a heartbeat. And my mother, too, is right here. So yes, I have that going for me, here. But I also have this amazing group of women in the North Dallas area, friends from college days, who are providing a community I didn't even know I'd have here (or would need so desperately at this moment). Women I love and have loved for 30 years. Women I respect. Strong women. Thinkers. Challengers. People who make me better. Who wouldn't want those kinds of friendships?

And then there are my IMB sisters. You know who you are. You have been my family for eight years. We have shared just about everything there is to share: laughter, tears, transition, growing children, hurting husbands, changing roles, even death. I have spoken to so many of my IMB women over the last week. So many. Especially that small circle who are just deeply, deeply connected to one another. And though we are all hurting, and we are all separated by various distances, the love and the united front of absolute support for one another...amazing. Enough to make this transplanted Floridian shed a few tears of thankfulness instead of stress. Enough to know that we will get through this moment, this season...together.

It's easy for me to turn in on things, on situations, and mull and fret. That is my go-to stance, unfortunately. But with every phone call, private messsage, email, and lunch, the women in my life are helping me look around at the grace and mercy and compassion that are available to me. They are helping me be grateful for every strong, sustaining friendship I have, no matter where that friend might live. (Amazing the glory of being on the same continent, btw. Even Florida to Texas doesn't seem that far when you can just send a snarky, funny text. Right, Janet?) They are doing for me what women have historically done for each other: supported, encouraged, cheered on to the end. I'm grateful for that kind of sisterhood, aren't you? May the God of everything encourage you today to love the women around you a little harder, a little better, and may you, too,  be amazed at the remarkable size of chickens in the U.S. :)  Blessings to you and yours.

His,
Kellye