What 15 minutes over 15 years can teach you

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It was one of the smartest things I ever did. But like most of the "smart" things I've done in my life -- and sadly, there have not been a lot -- I didn't know it was smart at the time. I just thought it sounded like fun.Sometimes the heart hatches a plan before the brain has a clue.In this case, it was six hearts. Or seven. I can't recall who joined when. And I'm fuzzy on the timing. I think it's been 15 years, but it seems like forever.We knew each other from church or school or other connections, but we weren't a close circle of friends.Not at first. That came later. We were all busy with jobs and families and rich, full lives that left little time for friendship.That's what brought us together. We longed for the companionship of women.So we checked our calendars and set our watches and began meeting over breakfast once a week, for one precious hour, between getting kids off to school and going into work.It was a simple commitment. We'd each take a few minutes to talk about whatever was going on in our lives, our hearts and our souls. We'd spend 20 minutes trying to divvy up the breakfast bill. Then we'd go our separate ways with a promise to pray for each other. That was it. And that was enough.We did that for 15 years (with occasional absences for vacations or hysterectomies) through some of the best and hardest times of our lives.You'd be surprised how much you can learn about a woman listening to her talk 10 minutes once a week for 15 years. You'd be amazed what it can teach you about yourself.For example. From listening to them, I learned that I need friends. I need their strength, wisdom, laughter, support and their willingness to prevent me from doing something stupid.I learned that a tiny spark of faith can be fanned into a flame by seeing the hand of God at work in the lives of others.I learned that I could survive the death of my first husband; see my children grow up and leave home; remarry and move to Las Vegas; and through it all, they would still be my friends.I also learned some great tips on stain removal and hormone replacement. But that is not what I miss the most.What I miss most is them -- the light in their eyes when they laugh at my jokes and the funny way they squint when they're trying to divvy up the bill. I especially miss them on the days they meet without me.When I invited them to Vegas for New Year's Eve, it never occurred to me they'd actually show up. With their husbands. And stay for three days.My husband didn't expect it, either. When I told him the news, he was so surprised you could've slapped him naked and sold his clothes.By some miracle, we found hotel rooms (Vegas often sells out for New Year's) for two couples. A third couple took our guest room and Sally, bless her, slept on a cot in my office.It was cozy, but we managed; which is to say, my husband and I didn't give up our bed.New Year's Eve, we all had dinner at our place and watched the fireworks over the Strip from a safer, saner distance.I wish you could've seen us.We could not have dreamed 15 years ago that we would celebrate New Year's together in Las Vegas of all places. We could never have imagined the lives that we have shared.Faith is, after all, the hope of things unseen. We will laugh about that one day, I suspect, when we try to divvy up the breakfast bill in heaven.(Sharon Randall can be contacted at P.O. Box 777394, Henderson NV 89077, or at www.sharonrandall.com)