I once heard a saying that an isolated woman was a walking target. The longer I do this thing called life I find that that is true. We are most vulnerable when we are alone; when our walk turns into a trudge and we sink into the grey emptiness that exemplifies the ambiguity of alone.
I crave the togetherness that I glean from knowing that I am not alone. That there are other women out there whose children drove them to the edge of their sanity today and yesterday and probably will do the same tomorrow.
I need to know that my kids aren't the only ones repeating possibly embarrassing names of body parts over and over and over (and over) again because they are a new word and aren't new words supposed to be repeated a minimum of six hundred twenty eight times?
I need to know that my tears are shared and my prayers are prayed not only by me, but lifted up by my friends so that when I tell them what I am going through they can whisper their sorrows right back at me.
When animals are being hunted what is the first thing a predator does? He doesn't go for the pack, no, he goes for the lone animal that is separated from the pack--the disconnected one. He crouches and waits, saliva dripping from his fangs as he perches, like a wound spring, waiting, just waiting until his prey is far enough from the group that they won't be able to save it. He watches, lying in wait, muscles tensed, ready for action....but what if the prey never leaves the group. Well then, he's out of luck.
Don't leave the group. I know you may want to be alone. You may feel alone, but ALONE is a lie. Today, find one person; just one and reach out. Tell them what you are struggling with, ask them to pray. Don't become the prey.
