The nurse handed me the iridescent pink reusable bag and let me know I could put my clothes inside when I changed. She handed me a folded hospital gown and pointed out the dressing rooms along the south wall.
My hands trembled a bit as I took off my clothes and put on the gown with the opening to the front as instructed. The fabric was thin with flimsy ties. This simple gown couldn’t possibly cover my parts or hold me in the way I felt like I needed right then.
I made my way to the waiting area. Only five chairs for a host of women being ushered in and out of the mammography rooms. I chose a spot near the bathroom door – a bit removed from the other women – so they didn’t have to listen to my four square breathing while I waited for them to call me back for my biopsy. These appointments hold a gravity for me, especially after my first husband died of cancer.
My eyes scanned the room, noting the diversity. Women of different sizes, shapes and skin tones filled the space. Eavesdropping was not optional in this small area. Two women sitting on the other side were having a conversation. The older woman with curly, salt and pepper hair unraveled some of her story. She talked about her diagnosis and how she had shaved her head before the first round of chemo because she didn’t want to witness it falling out.
I couldn’t see the other woman’s face but she was closer to my age. She responded with affirmations, honoring the woman’s experience while the rest of us listened. I remember thinking how beautiful and composed the seasoned woman was. There was a certain levity in her storytelling that helped us all breathe.
Something about their exchange lifted my spirit from the anxiety that threatened to spill over. As they related, we all nodded our understanding and encouragement.
The older woman rose suddenly and headed toward me. I wanted to hug her, but refrained. She swung open the door to the single user bathroom. We locked eyes.
“These appointments make me so nervous,” she said under her breath.
“I hear you,” I said.
I wanted so badly for her to know that she wasn’t alone. Almost as badly as I wanted someone to tell me I was not solo sitting there with only thin hospital gown fabric shielding my middle-aged body.
In the book of Ecclesiastes, there is a passage that gives us a vision of the power of community. In a time when there is so much tension, violence, and division pervading our communities, I cling to these words of wisdom:
“Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed. If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. But someone who falls alone is in real trouble. Likewise, two people lying close together can keep each other warm. But how can one be warm alone? A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer. Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken.”
Ecclesiastes 4:9-12 NLT
These truths remind us we are stronger when we pivot away from scarcity and support each other. This passage paints a picture of the strength we gain when we defend and protect each other, when we call each other out and build each other up.
I received a message from a friend the other day that simply said: “I’m always here if you need someone to process with.” Tears sprung to my eyes. That simple text message made all the difference in lifting me up in challenging circumstances. She helped me feel like I was not alone.
Friends, the point is we need each other. These days are challenging, full of unexpected turns on the trail and hills that are steeper than we might anticipate. I have discovered the way to persevere and flourish is in community.
After all, God’s heart beats for community. He Himself embodies community. He is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – three in one like that triple-braided cord – our model of community working seamlessly. He designed us to live in relationships, to work out our insecurities and use our gifts in the context of community. We are to bear each other’s burdens and lighten each other’s load (Galatians 6:2).
All throughout Scripture we find examples of women who moved courageously in community:
In an act of civil disobedience, Hebrew midwives Shiphrah and Puah honored God and disobeyed Pharaoh’s orders to kill Israelite baby boys, saving many lives.
A sister squad, who were the daughters of the late Zelophehad, banded together and bravely asked Moses to consider their predicament. God awarded them property in the Promised Land because of their respectful request.
Two widows, Ruth and Naomi, immigrated to a new land and navigated grief together – eventually taking their place as bold branches in Jesus’ family tree.
Elizabeth and Mary stayed together and encouraged each other through unexpected pregnancies before the births of their sons, John and Jesus.
Sisters Mary and Martha joined other women, including Joanna, Mary Magdalene Salome and Susanna, serving in Jesus’ ministry. These women walked, prayed, cooked, provided resources and followed Jesus to the cross. They were among the first to witness His resurrection and share the Good News with others.
The nurse called my name. I gripped my bag and shuffled into the little room where a technician appeared. Her bright smile welcomed me. She explained the procedure they would do. First an ultrasound, and then a biopsy to check on something that could be suspicious from my mammogram.
After the ultrasound, the radiologist examined the screen. She spoke words I didn’t anticipate. “Were you excited about getting a biopsy today?” she asked with a hint of humor.
I thought it was a trick question. No, I wasn’t excited about getting a biopsy.
“Well, you don’t need one,” she smiled. “Whatever they saw during your mammogram a few weeks ago is completely gone.”
I exhaled.
I left the office and slipped through the waiting room, smiling at my sister-friends in their hospital gowns and offering up a prayer for each of them. It felt like I had been given a miraculous gift – not just a clear health report, but also a profound experience of courageous community.
Dorina helps people feast on the glory of God through her weekly Glorygram on Substack and her new Bible study, Redeemer: God’s Lovingkindness in the Book of Ruth.
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Dorina, you’ve described this universal message of the need and value of community in a way which is so relatable and palpable. I appreciate the way you breathed life into it by sharing your personal experience, as well as by including Scripture references.”Friends, the point is we need each other” is a beautiful truth of the way God created humanity to live and thrive.
Peace, Kathleen
Yes we do! \0/
Dear Dorina….I really was fascinated with your story today. First I was scared for you and your doctor appointment. I prayed right there that they would find nothing. I have had a series of very serious and complicated operations, one where the doctor gave me the wrong medication and I coded and ended up in ICU in a drug induced coma for 2 weeks. That doctor told my then husband that I would not survive the night, but due to something that I feel was a miracle, happened that night. Everything seemed white to me, but later that night, even though I was in a coma, I saw Jesus and my Holy Spirit appear. My Holy Spirit was whispering in my ear what Jesus was trying to tell me. He said, Betsy, this is not your time. You have too much to offer others as you are a generous, kind woman. You do need more strength and I will give you some, but you have to fight, fight fight yourself to make this happen. I know you can do this and do this, I did. I did survive and told friends and my husband what I experienced. Not one of them believed me. They said I was just dreaming and some even said I was making up the story. I was very hurt by their comments, so I stopped telling this Miracle I had experienced. Now after some other very difficult problems with my then husband and my son. He had violent dementia and tried to kill me and we both ended up in different Senior Living facilities and I had to sell our home as these places are very expensive and we both needed money. This brings me to the community I live in now for the past 3 years. This place is not as advertised and it definitely not Independent living. There were over 100 people here and over 35 have already left of some place else or many have passed on. There is so much tension here and most people do not want to talk to you.I have about 10 friends, but they are all in their 80s, 90s, and 100s.(About 4 women). I kept trying to help these people, but they do not want to talk to people they don’t know. In all my jobs, we became a close knit community and helped each other. As a manager and they began to know me and I encouraged anyone to talk to me if they needed to. I was so happy to help these young people and they loved me because I wasn’t what they thought their “Boss” would be like this. So community living is really not the way I prayed it would be. I will continue to try, but my friends also abandoned me as they did not want to help me through this dark season. This also hurt me, but Dorina, when I got to the end of your words, I actually praised the Lord for the fact that you were OK and could continue your life. I send my love and prayers to you that you will not have to face this kind of health situation again. I thank you also for sharing your story. It was very inspiring…………..Betsy Basile
Dorina, I loved this statement in your article: “I remember thinking how beautiful and composed the seasoned woman was.” Having celebrated my 90th birthday, I embrace this thought: ” We don’t age out — nobody does!”
Dorina, I loved this statement in your article: “I remember thinking how beautiful and composed the seasoned woman was.” Having celebrated my 90th birthday, I embrace this thought: ” We don’t age out — nobody does!”