Hope for My Girls

He had waited in line to share his words with me.

(It always humbles me when people will stand in line to do anything with me.)

He said,

“I’m proud of you. And I know that sounds strange, because I really don’t know you at all. But I have two daughters, and ever since I became a dad, my entire perspective on women has changed. Whenever I see a woman who is owning her life and walking with dignity, it gives me hope for my little girls. And that makes me very proud of you.”

Thank you.

“Seriously. Incredibly.”

“I think you should say something to that guy,” she whispered.

We had already traded seats so I could have an unobstructed view of him. She had said, “You’ve got to see this guy. No ring on his finger, so we’re good. I’m going to go get some water. Slide into my seat.”

She’s my married friend who instigates her single friends to do bold, courageous acts in the dating world. She paints the scene, invites us to step into it, and prides herself as a Wing Girl.

Most of her friends are embarrassed when she writes a phone number on the restaurant receipt. Most of them bawk at her suggestions.

Hi. Have we met? My name is Tricia. I’ll follow through with your great idea. Especially if there’s a memory at stake, a positive outcome on the line, or a dollar on the table.  If it might add a little plot to this story, then probably don’t dare me if it will embarrass you when I follow through.

“Sure, I’ll say something.”

“You will?!” She barely knew what to do with my cooperation.

“I totally will. Go stand by the door, because when I’m ready to go, I’m really going to be ready to go.” She was giddy with anticipation; I was blazing with courage.

Baseball cap. Five o’clock shadow. Attractively intelligent in his gray t-shirt and distressed jeans. His fingers clicked away on his Mac, as if that isn’t music to my ears.

“Excuse me, sir? Can I say something before I go?”

(Add ‘dark eyes’ and ‘long lashes’ to the above list.)


(Add ‘great smile.’ The list continues.)

I stood on the other side of his table and gently leaned in. “I just wanted to tell you that you are incredibly good looking.”



(Great smile again.) “Well, thank you. That just made my whole month.”

“You’re welcome. I just thought you should know.”

I tap the table in farewell, and I head on out the door of this chic, hipster coffee shop. Wing Girl is biting her nails, clapping her hands, and bouncing, but she pulls it together and we stroll to the car. Casually. Like I do this all the time.

With the doors closed, she squeals. “I can’t believe you did it! You did it!”

“I totally did. And I might not be done… let me think.” I didn’t have a business card with me, but I had a plethora of 3×5 cards. Naturally. With my girly script, I wrote:

Seriously. Incredibly.

I walked back in with the hipsters, straight to his table. I slid the card under the corner of his laptop. Eye contact. Smile.

“I just wanted to make your month one more time.”

Tap the table in farewell. Out I go. Finished this time.

For real, they should bottle that boost of confidence and sell it on eBay. Because there’s nothing like it in the world. I could have tap danced to the moon and back.

The Greenhouse: This Thursday, April 11, 2013


I have a love/hate relationship with the book of James.  I love it because it’s just so practical that I can’t miss what I’m supposed to do; I hate it because it’s just so practical that I have no reason not to do what I’m called to do!  When I read the book of James, I feel like I’m listening to a task-minded parent giving a Saturday morning lecture to his kids: “Listen.  No more messing around.  Here’s what you’re going to do, starting today.”  There are no wasted words, no breaks in the conversation, no wondering what he meant to say.
Beth Moore said, “If I were James, I’d tend to want to chat a while before counting it all joy when life pitches you into the food processor or breaks one foot and sprains another.  If I were going to say it at all, I’d probably save it until the end.  Not James.  He wrote like a mans cared of running out of ink.”
He minces no words, and he grabs me by the wrist and jumps right into the deep end.
Join us on Thursday evening as we dive into James’ words about wisdom, how it’s different from knowledge, and one-stop-shopping for all your wisdom needs.

Bring a friend – don’t miss this great event that’s cultivating community among women of every age and stage. Forward this invitation, share with your girlfriends, and meet us on Thursday night!

As always, childcare is available with registration.
If you’re familiar with The Greenhouse and you’d like to share something delicious at the buffet table, please shoot me an email.
Loving you girls and praying for you this morning!