My friend Sharon had a birthday this week, and she invited us girlfriends to a pijama party at her house; a little wierd driving in your jammies, I have to admit, but it was a lot of fun. The party itself was wonderful, the food as exquisite as Sharon only can make it, the service, well… Sharon’s husband and another friend of ours all dressed up served us with so much style. It was great. We giggled and laughed till our jaws hurt, it felt so good to be alive.
In the midst of it all, Sharon read the story of Ida, a woman who reflects on the seasons of her life. Then, four precious women of God stood up, one by one, giving us a rendition of each season, starting with spring when the earth is still all frozen and winter seems to hang on way too long, and then summer with its sultry heat and lack of rain until the floodgates of heaven open and fruit is rich and abundant. Then there was fall, in which we experience a godly discontentment, and we find ourself on the lookout, ready for the fullness of His will, and we are ushered into winter, where we bear fruit like nobody’s business. I was watered deeply as I watched my dear friends act out the seasons of life, and I saw the riches of their spirits. My heart overflowed with thankfulness for my girlfriends, my sisters indeed.
The tone changed when karoake started; hips started to swing and laughter resurfaced. But the bond of sisterhood was clear; all eyes reflected it, and I found myself so proud to belong to such an elite group of people. I am richly blessed indeed.

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