Thursday, December 01, 2011

This evening, peace

Jena Strong got me thinking about tenderness yesterday morning.
I've been thinking about peace all day today.

This evening, peace

for the friend helping her mom move from her home of 30+ years into an apartment
for the friend helping herself move out of her marital home into her own apartment
for the friend who has made that move already and is discovering the joy of living alone
for the friend who is looking for work
for the friend who recently started a new job
for the friend longing for companionship
for the friend unsure of what is ailing her daughter
for the friend unsure of what is ailing her marriage
for the friend who has begun to study something she has always wanted to learn about
for the friend studying for finals
for the friend celebrating the end of an illness
for the friend dealing with long term dialysis
for the friend awaiting the birth of his second child
for the friend longing to get pregnant


This evening, peace

for the friend whose grandson is suffering at the hands of an angry step-father
for the friend whose son faces 15 more years in prison
for the friend wishing she weren't so alone
for the friend wishing for some time alone, even just an hour
for the friend whose ex-husband refuses to pay child support
for the friend whose husband is on his way home from Iraq
for the friend whose husband recently left for Afghanistan
for the friend whose sons miss him terribly
for the friend too selfish to consider the damage his absence is causing to his children
for the friend too afraid to walk away from abuse
for the friend too fearful to stay put long enough to be loved the way she deserves


This evening, peace

for the friend who kicked her daughter out of the house
for the friend who is too proud to admit she was wrong
for the friend who is too afraid to ask for what she wants
for the friend seeking a deeper connection with her daughter-in-law
for the friend wishing her mother-in-law would leave her alone
for the friend who has gained a lot of weight this year
for the friend who wishes she had enough to feed her growing family
for the friend for whom winter threatens her sense of well-being
for the friend whose sense of well-being is increasing with each passing day
for the friend smoking clandestinely outside her mom's house
for the friend lighting a candle and remembering her mother's Christmas cookies
for the friend gathering ingredients for her annual cookie extravaganza


This evening peace

for the friend who has been hurt by my words
for the friend whose words have wounded me
for the friend from whom I feel separated at the moment
for the friend with whom I feel most connected these days
for the friend who asks me questions and then listens to the answers
for the friend who cuts me off and tells me to stop preaching
for the friend whose tears I have wiped and whose sorrows I have borne
for the friend who keeps asking me to tell the truth, even when the truth hurts
for the friend worried about her children and their future
for the friend who has set a vivid example of how to live at peace, no matter what
for the friend who keeps coming back to read this blog
for the friend who reads my words and rolls her eyes with disdain


This evening, peace

for the friend whose 40th birthday celebration and getaway reminded her of how blessed she is
for the friend who has never lost sight of how beautiful she is
for the friend who has no idea how gorgeous she is - and whose glow is undeniable
for the friend whose laughter lights up every phone call and whose words soothe my soul
for the friend who makes me laugh, belly laugh, with the perfect turn of phrase
for the friend whose sketches and wise words drive me to my journal every single time
for the friend whose art work inspires me to create, create, create
for the friend who is bravely telling her story in the most creative way possible
for the friend who reached out to me and wished me peace
for the friend whose tenderness got me thinking so much about peace


This evening, peace

for all men, women, and children everywhere

2 comments:

Maya Stein said...

Gail, this is utterly, utterly beautiful. And necessary. You, my dear, are a blessing.

bullseyebaby said...

So grateful for the gift of you.