Synopsis
What do an ex-con, a former addict, a college student, and a married mother of two have in common? Nothing, or so I thought. Who would have imagined that God would make a group as mismatched as ours the closest of friends? I almost didn't go to the Chicago Women's Conference - after all, being thrown together with five hundred strangers wasn't exactly my "comfort zone." When I was assigned to a prayer group of twelve women at the conference, I wasn't sure what to think. There was Flo, an outspoken ex-drug addict; Ruth, a Messianic Jew who could smother-mother you to death; and Yo-Yo, an ex-con who wasn't even a Christian! Not to mention women from Jamaica, Honduras, South Africa - practically a mini-United Nations. We certainly didn't have much in common. But something happened that weekend to make us realize we had to hang together. So the "Yada Yada Prayer Group" decided to keep praying for each other via e-mail, and when our personal struggles got too intense for...