Today has been a full day. I just got back a bit ago from coffee with the group of us women who get together once a week or so to read and discuss a book – and talk. Maybe the talking is the most significant part of why we meet. This year we are going to begin with reading The Real Mary by Scott McKnight. That should bring us up to about Christmas. Sort of fitting.
We have a good time together. This year we’ll again invite other women to join us. We’ve purposefully kept the group fairly close and small so that we can learn to know and trust each other. If the group gets too big we may have to rethink the format of meeting. We need this sort of a group. This morning I was talking to the husband of one of the women and he commented that we women have a good thing going on – that he finds it hard to read scripture himself but that now his wife does and enjoys it. He was sort of lamenting the lack of this type of group for men – also being realistic and saying that the kind of sharing and support we women have is hard to do for men. And that is true. No less necessary though.
Another man in the congregation shared that he had just lost his father. Women could easily hug him and express their sympathy but the men hang back. I think they need some of this kind of support – need to learn that it is OK and good. But there are some unseen sort of barriers that keep men from being able to do this. Another fellow mentioned this, and said he thinks the men need to support each other more openly.
At least the need is becoming more evident. Maybe something will move in that sector.
For myself – it has been a full day. Preaching a sermon is good work and rewarding but it leaves me feeling as if I have done some physical work. Sort of tired and reflective and in many ways satisfied. Hard to describe. It takes some emotional energy or something and at the same time leaves me feeling good.
It also evokes some inner questions and it is a bit hard to articulate but it makes me wonder where I am going with all of this. I feel torn between pushing ahead on a course of action that I think might be right for me and holding back, being patient so that I discern the right action to take. This is a hard place to sit in – this waiting place.