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the parking lot project

After a long conversation in the parking lot, about our children, and the fear, and all of its pain, my friend said, "And I don't even have a mother to go to."

She meant her earthly mother.

And I wished we didn't have to both run off to different ball fields so that I could tell her the great news; that she does have a Mother to go to. Our Blessed Mother.

Yesterday in another parking lot, a friend walked over and had a good, long, hard, venting.

Kids, and schools, and the move, and that fear...and of course...all of its pain.

"Please pray for me" she asked, as she walked away to go pack up her home, leaving a trail of silent suffering behind her.

And what I am even supposed to write about now, I have no idea.

All I know, is I have the door open so I can hear the pounding of the rain, as I type out these words and try to figure out exactly where it is that God is calling me to be. Why all of these women, Lord? Why are they sharing with me? Why are you sending them to me?

And why do You always show up in the parking lot?

It seems that the eyes of my heart have been opened up to the insane amount of women walking around lonely in their pain.

And the funny thing?

So many of us who are lonely? We are never really ever alone.

We are with children, or spouses, or co workers, or friends, or at the gym, or at church, or at the grocery store...we are surrounded by people.

But we are alone.

And maybe that is why we stop in the parking lot.

Because it is the one place of transition; that quick pause in the "from here to there" running that we do.

We know it is a temporary landing...and so we can quickly spill out the contents of the baggage we carry in one large dump, then hurry up to close it, lock it, pick it up, and carry it to our next destination.

But are we not meant to be more than commuters in this life?

We are on a hideous treadmill with no way to get off...at least not safely.

And it is driving me crazy.

And it reminds me of when my children were small and overwhelmed and how they would run to me, and just snuggle in. Or climb on my lap. Simply rest. That is how I so often feel in this busy life. I long to rest my head on my father's chest. Or to snuggle close in to my mother's side so she could tickle my arm, or stroke my hair. Have you ever sat in an empty church? Have you ever heard that silence? Kind of like the rain right now...it is so comforting. So soothing. It is what rest in a mother's arms feels like. And I believe we all long for that, still. We just don't know how to stop and find it.

I shared with a friend...and yes, this was in the parking lot...about my desire to start a prayer group of some sort this summer...maybe with wine...maybe some cheese (because everything is better with wine and cheese) ...something very casual and low maintenance...where we could stop the running, and gather to pray the rosary. Specifically, for our grown children. Because guess what? All of the pain and fear these moms are carrying? 9 out of 10 times, it is related to their children. And not the ones still playing in the sand box. Not the ones who can not yet dress themselves, and still ride in a car seat. I am talking about the big ones. The prone to wander ones. The influenced by the world ones. The ones who do dress themselves, and good grief, can you believe what they are wearing? The ones who now sit in the drivers seat, and please dear Jesus, keep those kids safe. The ones who long for that stillness and closeness to their mother and father, but are turning to the things of this world for comfort, in their place. Those ones. And my friend loved the idea, but proposed, "Why not do it right here, in front of Mary?"

I thought about that suggestion as I drove home.

But still hung on to the idea of a lovely house gathering.

With wine.

And cheese.

Because well, you know how I feel about wine and cheese.

And I still liked the house idea when I woke this morning.

Until right now.

Until I started to type these words.

Until I could see this story right in front of me, am I able to recognize where God has been leading me all along.

Where got has already lead me.

Time and time again.

(and thank you Jesus, for using my good friend to lead me to You and your desire for me because clearly, I am a slow learner and not a very good listener!)

This place my friend suggested? This statue of Mary? Can you guess where it is?

Yup. Of course.

It is in the parking lot.

Where else could it possibly be?

(stay tuned mamas...the parking lot project coming soon)

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