The alarm sounded at 5:45am. I was met with a rush of cold air as I peeled back the covers. My brain urged me to return to the safety and warmth of my bed. But I heard my roommates rustling outside the door; we did this for each other. We awoke, in the dead of winter, when the air was frigid, and the sky still dark, because our friendship, our walks with the Lord, our struggles and blessings meant more than an extra few hours of sleep.
Showers weren't required, nor was make-up or anything fancier than a pair of sweats and the warmest sweaters we owned. We piled into one car, probably not legally, but this was Minnesota, in the dead of winter, and even a few blocks took your breath away in the dark of morning.
The coffee shop was the only opened early enough for our time frame. Everyone peeled their layers and quickly placed their order for coffee, cafe au laits, or hot teas. The shop was always empty and our table, the only large enough to seat us all, was always free.
Over the course of the next two hours we prayed, we went deep into each others lives, and we truly laughed hard, low, belly retching laughs, and cried slow, emotionally draining tears.
These are my women and I'd give anything to awake at 5:45am to sit over coffee and go deep into one anothers lives again. But these are my women still. Our growing distance hasn't stopped us from getting into one anothers business. Flash forward seven years later and these are still my women. Only now we hold close the weekend adventures that happen a mere one or two times a year.
This year we moved in on Milwaukee, packing seven into a hotel room, once again drinking endless drips of coffee together, praying over one another, laughing hard, low belly retching laughs and crying slow, emotionally draining tears. Until next time ladies.