That thing called sisterhood.

The older I become the more appreciative I am of the true girl friends that fill my life.

While I’m not old, I’ve certainly lived long enough to recognize the futility that comes hand-in-hand with senseless competitiveness and desperate struggles to be everything you think your friend (or neighbor or sister or cousin or even a perfect stranger) is.

As I begin my cruise through mid-life I am thankful for the great group of gals that surround me. They praise my strengths and tolerate my idiosyncracies. They cry with me and laugh with me. They know that I’m not perfect and they’re okay with that. My secrets, hopes, and dreams are buried in the vaults that are their hearts. My name is safe on their lips.

It hasn’t always been this way and – because of that – I am so thankful for this stage in my life. It takes a while to see the world and our place in it with clarity. It takes even longer to understand that no one can fill our exact place, just as we cannot even begin to fill someone else’s. We’re unique, God’s own Originals.

The reality is that we, as women, tend to wear veneers, whether thick or thin, that shield our vulnerabilities and present only the ‘pretty’ side of ourselves. The side we want others to see. The side WE choose, not necessarily the portrait of the woman God created us to be.

A few years back I made a very conscious decision to remove myself from the pettiness that we women sometimes fall prey to. I became very aware that most women are not so much unlike…me. We come in all shapes, all sizes, all makes and models, but the essentials are very familiar.

We need to be loved, for sure, and appreciated and respected. But I can’t help but believe that what we need more than anything is TO love. To love without boundaries, without limits, without expectations. To truly love is the greatest gift and women are abundantly endowed with it. We’re nurturers by nature and yet, so often, we fail to nurture and support one another.

We’re a sisterhood and our strongest ally is most likely standing right by our side. But she may too shy, too opinionated, too angry, or too goofy even, to approach. Even so, I have a feeling that her heart beats much the same as mine does. I’m quite sure that her arms shelter someone much as my own do, and that her eyes drip tears of joy and sadness and pain – exactly as my eyes do.

She has hurts and disappointments. Pride and shame. Strengths and weaknesses. Irritating habits and endearing characteristics . She is my sister. My friend. My neighbor. The woman next to me in line at Target. She is the young girl who does my nails. She is the elderly woman that I pass weekly at church.

I may not always know her name.

But I pray I always see her.

She’s not all that different from me.

Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly (or sisterly!) love. Honor one another above yourselves. Romans 12:9-10