The bell was minutes from ringing. With the lesson complete, students sat around talking weekend plans. One young lady stood and walked over to a girl friend. I observed as she gently lifted a piece of her friend’s hair and began to braid, weaving one strand of hair over another.
It was a beautiful image to watch them smile and laugh. Memories of my sorority house rushed forward—sitting on couches, combing our fingers through the hair of our sisters.
Men can’t play with our hair the same way. It doesn’t work. All thumbs and trying to fix the knots. No. Sometimes we just need our sisters.
Prince Charming is amazing. I love him completely. Without doubt. But moments weave in and out of this world only my girlfriends can fill.
The sister-friend. What a beautiful gift we’ve been given. Only the Creator could have known the way sisters would need sisters, blood born or chosen.
Slumber parties and pillow fights. Giggling late into the midnight hour. Painted fingernails and braiding hair. From the masterful mud-pies created in the backyard to wedding dress dreams, sisterhood is powerful—a force. Whether we idolized Barbie or Nancy Drew, we enjoy being a mystery hard to solve.
Because there are just some things men will never understand.
And that’s okay. We have our sister-friends.
We sigh together at the collective pull of image and have felt what it’s like to forget we’re beautiful. A pair of fat jeans hangs in every closet. And when we must put them on only to discover those are tight too, we know we’re not alone.
Hormones flood our bodies. Our sisters understand what a hot flash feels like and how our ovaries scream each month, clawing our insides out. They understand—they’ve felt it too.
We know what it’s like to stumble to the bathroom at midnight and fall-in. Or the way our bras dig into our skin and how we fantasize about the moment we can unhook the torture device around our chests. Or the horror of that one really bad haircut—you know, the one needing a paper bag.
The power of the spa draws like moths to a flame. Pretty toes and baths with oils. Roses and scrubs. Massages and hair color. That’s what little girls are made of.
Because we really are sugar and spice—sweet and feisty. Meek and mild until you hurt one of our sisters. The sting of the mean girl is a scar we each endure. So we defend the hearts of our friends without relenting. We’re in this thing together. And this coming together is our strength.
It’s the togethering, the bonding, the connecting our women hearts crave. The meaningful conversation that stirs the soul and rejuvenates our spirits. Because my sister-friends hear the words I’ve never spoken.
They know when to show up with a meal complete with desert, or just some Starbucks. They know when to be quiet, to be still. When to listen or when to offer advice. They know they can’t fix the problems but their friendship can offer balm for my weary soul.
To nurture and support. This is who we are. Holding the other up when walking one more step is too hard to do alone. Our arms ache from the carrying of children and supporting of husbands. But the lifting strengthens, building up tired muscles. Because a strand of three cords is not easily broken (Ecc. 4:12).
And the sister-friends who share their Jesus faith, bending hearts in prayer with callused knees are strong. Strong when the journey is easy. Stronger when life gets hard. Strongest because He is our third cord.
Because this sisterhood understands Ruth’s declaration to Naomi, Where you go I will go (Ruth 1:16). We know why Mary ran to Elizabeth in the face of ridicule, pregnant as a virgin. It is the reason Mary and Martha, together, send word to Jesus when Lazarus becomes ill.
Because together we know we are more powerful than alone. The collective song we sing, with voices lifted in harmony, as we stand side-by-side gives us strength. This sisterhood with hands held and arms linked.
When last did you sip a cup of coffee late into the night with your favorite girls? Or bring dinner to a friend in need? Or write a note to say I know your heart. Or just sit and run your fingers through the hair of your sister-friend.
If you can’t remember, then it’s time. It’s time to cherish the gift God has given us in this feminine connection. This beautiful chance at relationships with women who know our hearts, treasure our secrets, and shoulder our burdens. Because this gift is mean to be shared.