Remember her today

Today I met a very sweet little lady, around the age of 65, needed a walker for support.
I was working at the store, and she was browsing through a rack of shirts on sale. She and I got to talking, and it was then she said "I do love the sales. Especially like to shop when I'm depressed."
My heart sank with concern, she looked up and said "And honey, I'm depressed."

"Are you okay?"
"My husband just died." She sifted the racks a little longer, finding the only shirt she liked to be a little too floppy. It was pronounced a floppy shirt, but she carried it along anyway, telling me she'd wander over to the next aisle.

I followed her, to wish her a good day, and tell her if she needed a walk to please come upstairs to kidswear and find me. I'd love nothing more than a walk with her.
She looked at me with tears that she wouldn't quite let flow.

I am pleading with you, Father, bring that woman back to the store. I don't know even her name, just that she's the precious woman with a leopard print blouse.
Lay it on her heart that she come back. Cross our paths again.
I get the feeling she's dealing with this heart ache all by herself, and I can't bear that. She can't do it alone. She needs support, she needs You.
Please let us have a walk together. Please Daddy...please.

Sharing, bearing, helping.

I desire desperatley to write to you, dear friends, yet words run dry, and my mind remains relatively blank.

The longing in my heart is for deep, and close-knit, and challenging, and oh so wonderful community. Realizing that this is something I've known very little of, even on a small scale; the tendency of my heart is to wall up, and hide, and create unachieavable standards. Perhaps in creating such standards, I am trying to justify a reason to hide - but all I have really done is hurt the ones I care about. If you are reading, and have felt the sting of my distrust (as you almost surely will have) I am ever so sorry to you.

The truth of the matter is that, even now, the measure of trust I give to others is quite small. Please be patient with me, dear friends, I am having to unlearn a lifetime of distrust, and slowly learn to invite others into this heart of mine.

What does it look like to know and be known, to love and be loved?

Feeling stupid, and a little ashamed, I admit that I've not the best idea what it looks like to have friendships full of trust and openness.

Prayers, words, action, and admonishment in such things is sought and welcomed.