My daughter is wise. “The true litmus test is:” she counseled through my cell phone, “are you stretching yourself, reaching outside your comfort zone?” She gave back wisdom I’d handed her in the past, “God doesn’t call the qualified, He . . .” All that being true, perhaps The Caring People ministry warranted a closer look. My wise daughter thought so. So, I talked about it. I talked to my omnipotent God, my supportive husband and a respected ministry director at our church. Life went on. Thoughts of The Caring People ministry came and went. Time marched by – one year, then more. Another voice over my cell phone, this time the respected director, said,”. . . Let’s just do it! Let’s start a Care Group. Are you in?” I was in, though not on fire – more like a warm glow. And nervous, I should mention nervous.

Deep Questions

Could a group of young, single mothers relate to this 60 year old grandmother?  Have decades of a solid, loving marriage marred my memory of being a single mom with no soft place to fall? On January 12, 2011 I walked into the classroom, shadowed closely by my questions-now reproducing like dirty laundry.

Then, I fell in love. Sometimes falling in love is obvious and traceable to the split second. But to pinpoint the exact moment I fell in love with these brave, struggling, funny-one-minute, crying-the-next, single mothers, I can’t say. Though I willingly shared them with the other Caring Leaders, they silently became “my moms” long before the semester ended on April 17. We celebrated with a big cookout, miniature petting zoo and horseback rides at our little place in the country.

 For the first time, we got to meet and spend time with all their children. And, wonderful though it was, here’s the unvarnished truth. . . All this falling in love, hearing heart-breaking stories, constantly seeking God’s will and trying to “find our legs” as first-time, Caring Leaders had been exhausting. As I hugged the last little munchkin goodbye, thoughts of down time were appealing. “Have a good summer!” was a popular refrain that Sunday afternoon. None of that happened.

The Storm - Joplin 

As parents we’ve all experienced those moments of raw fear. My wise daughter was a good great kid (to God goes the credit), but I distinctly remember the paralyzing grip of panic a few times. That feeling was awash on May 23, the day after the Joplin tornado, when I couldn’t locate “my moms”. Two of them, their children and one infant granddaughter miraculously survived, when all circumstances clearly indicated to the contrary. They immediately set about rebuilding their lives. At first they resisted help, and then graciously, thankfully accepted. Their staunch bravery and unshakeable determination and faith were, and continue to be, an inspiration to me.

Bonded In Love 

It is December now, we’re finishing up our fall semester and “my moms” total 17. They’ve adamantly requested Christmas break be shortened. “We’ll miss each other,” said one. Another threw out with gusto, “We’re family!” And the big wind couldn’t claim responsibility for that. Had May 22 slid from memory as just another pleasant, spring day, our flawed little family of misfits would still be. It didn’t make us and it certainly didn’t break us. But - what if we hadn’t started building this Care Group in January? What if I hadn’t listened to the directive God lovingly placed on my heart? What if Cindy, Cinda, Sheila and the entire TCP team weren’t supporting us in every way possible? What if these moms couldn’t come to Saint Paul’s UMC every Wednesday night?

A time to bond as Christian sisters, knowing their children are safe. What if they weren’t mentored by five grandmothers; sitting before them as living proof that God’s grace can and will walk you through the fire? I’ve evolved with these new, more pertinent, deeper questions.

At the conclusion of each semester our church has questions too. Our Care Group rides on the coattails of Wednesday Night Live where numerous courses are offered, coupled with a gratuitous hot meal and exemplary child care. The questionnaire, submitted to all leaders, contained a question that jumped off the page at me: “Would you be willing to lead this course again?” Is that a question?

Seriously?