(in)courage is doing a (in)RL {real life} Check-In Series on community. It is topic near and dear to my heart and one I have written about often. With all the editing and writing I am doing for the book, I decided to sneak back into the archives again for this post on Community. It is in response to this week's question “How do we build local community: some practical ideas.”
This was originally posted in June 2011 while I was living in Oregon. Our smallish suburb has grown a bit by moving to the Bay Area and yet, I am still a creature of habit who likes to get to know my baristas, librarians, and the people who are around me.
*****
I live in a smallish suburb. Not too small where everyone knows everyone's name but small enough that you run into the same people lots of places in town. I often find one of my kids tugging on my hand after church or at the library saying, "let's go" or Little One's favorite, "you're talking forever." When you first move to a new town, everyone is a stranger. But the more you frequent the same spots, the more you get to know people at preschool drop off or the library story time, you slowly begin to build community in unexpected places. Here are a few of my favorite unexpected favorite places...
Starbucks is the obvious first choice for me. I like to go to the same Starbucks every time. You know you are finally a regular when they know your drink order before you say a word. My Starbucks knows me well enough that I have had friends go in and order my drink and the barista will ask if that is for Jen? I have to say that I think my Starbucks has the best baristas (though in all honesty I will probably think that about our new Starbucks in California as soon as they know my drink.) I also run into so many people in the Starbucks line and love the opportunity to chat for a bit while waiting for our coffees.
The grocery store is another great place to see people. The joke at our house is if we are in a hurry send my husband because if I go to the store it might take a while depending on how many people I run into that I know. Who knew Safeway was such a great place to catch up? Even if I do not see anyone I know from outside of Safeway, I have slowly gotten to know a couple of the checkers. Okay I don't really KNOW them but I can tell if they are having a good day or need an extra smile from me.
The YMCA is another great place to build community. Mind you it is a community of people with headphones in their ears, reading magazines while running or elipticalling next to one another. Occasionally I will run into a friend at the Y. This last set of swim lessons for the kids I got to enjoy reconnecting with someone I knew from a mom's group years ago. But most of my community is faces I see but people I never speak to. If you go at the same time often enough you start to know the rhythms of the the people around you. The people I see each time I go and wonder if they are okay if I have not seen them for a while.
Maybe it helps that I am a creature of habit. We go through the McDonalds drive thru most Tuesday evenings for the $1.25 Happy Meals. (Before you judge we get apple dippers in at least one of the bags and everyone gets milk.) So I should not be surprised when the lady working the drive thru recognizes me and smiles. She also knows to double check that the hamburgers are plain and to give me straws for the milk which is an added bonus being a regular.
This is part of the community I will miss when we move.
What unexpected place have you found community?
*****
Friday, September 28, 2012
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
WednesDAY of Faith - Are you Still There God?
On Wednesdays, I will be posting thoughts on faith, specifically my faith and my walk with God. I am a Christian, a follower of Jesus, born again, born anew, a child of God, a believer, a Protestant, a disciple of Christ. All that I am, all that I do, starts from that identity - my relationship with God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, three in one, one in me.
And most days, I believe deeply. I walk through life with God ever present. I am not sure I can explain it, but I just know He is with me. I read the Bible and something jumps from the pages or simple rings true in my ears. I walk outside and feel the wind on my face and know the earth, all of nature is moving and dancing for its creator. I spend time with friends and I feel a nudge to give a hug or to stop talking and listen more. I look at my children and am amazed at my powerful love for them and see God's powerful love for me, His child. I have conversations with Him in my head, silent prayers throughout my day and know I've been heard.
But then there are days, even weeks, and once months, where I do not feel God. This usually is because I have strayed away, I have stopped spending time reading His words to me or have allowed myself to spend more time churning ugly thoughts through my mind than kind ones. Sometimes, I walk away from His presence.
But there are also those times when I am doing all the right things. I am reading the Bible. I am going to church. I am singing the worship songs and praying out to God to hear me and answer me. I am walking the walk but I don't feel it. I don't feel Him.
I don't know why He sometimes chooses silence to speak to me.
It is the silence though that forces my faith to stop being about me, to stop being about what I feel, what I experience. The silence requires me to ask a tough question - without the feeling of God, do I still believe? Without God's hand felt firmly on my life, do I still believe He is real?
It is in the silence that I freely say I do believe.
And there is comfort in knowing that my belief is not based on good feelings or experiences. There is peace in knowing I believe regardless of what God does for me. I don't know why but it makes me feel safer with God, not less safe.
How has God let you know He is real?
And most days, I believe deeply. I walk through life with God ever present. I am not sure I can explain it, but I just know He is with me. I read the Bible and something jumps from the pages or simple rings true in my ears. I walk outside and feel the wind on my face and know the earth, all of nature is moving and dancing for its creator. I spend time with friends and I feel a nudge to give a hug or to stop talking and listen more. I look at my children and am amazed at my powerful love for them and see God's powerful love for me, His child. I have conversations with Him in my head, silent prayers throughout my day and know I've been heard.
But then there are days, even weeks, and once months, where I do not feel God. This usually is because I have strayed away, I have stopped spending time reading His words to me or have allowed myself to spend more time churning ugly thoughts through my mind than kind ones. Sometimes, I walk away from His presence.
But there are also those times when I am doing all the right things. I am reading the Bible. I am going to church. I am singing the worship songs and praying out to God to hear me and answer me. I am walking the walk but I don't feel it. I don't feel Him.
I don't know why He sometimes chooses silence to speak to me.
It is the silence though that forces my faith to stop being about me, to stop being about what I feel, what I experience. The silence requires me to ask a tough question - without the feeling of God, do I still believe? Without God's hand felt firmly on my life, do I still believe He is real?
It is in the silence that I freely say I do believe.
And there is comfort in knowing that my belief is not based on good feelings or experiences. There is peace in knowing I believe regardless of what God does for me. I don't know why but it makes me feel safer with God, not less safe.
How has God let you know He is real?
Monday, September 24, 2012
Motherhood Mondays - Silence is Golden
Years and years ago, before we had children, my husband and I would go to the movies. Most weekends, we would spend at least a few hours huddled in the dark, watching the pre-movie advertisements that always ended with cartoon character reminding us that "Silence is Golden."
For the almost ten years I have been a stay at home mom, which stopped making sense when the kids got old enough for school and activities and we ended up rarely at home. This was how I justified buying a two bedroom condo for five people. "Honey," I explained to my husband, " we are hardly ever home."
And then this summer came and we were home A LOT. Three boys can be noisy. So incredibly noisy.
But fall has finally arrived and my three sweet boys are back at school, and this year for the first time, I have six whole hours to myself. Six hours for me to schedule as I please, no longer forced to follow the designated one giving to me by preschools, play groups, nap times, class times, six month check ups, etc.
Now the three boys and I ride our bikes to school in the morning, the middle one complaining that it is going to kill him each day. But I can be patient through it because in just a few short minutes, we will be at the school, their bikes will be locked up, the bell will ring, and off to class they will go. Leaving me alone for six whole hours. SIX.
So what to do with all that time.
Most days, I start by chatting with friends after the kids walk in their lines into their classrooms and the doors are closed behind them. Sometimes we even head to a nearby coffee shop to experience the joys of being a grown up, out and about without kids.
Eventually I make my way home, I enter the condo, lock the door behind me and just relish in the quiet. So much quiet and it's all mine. I'm greedy that way because I know that soon, sooner than I like, the quiet will be broken by the sounds of fighting amongst brothers and grumbling about homework and guitar practice.
But for now this quiet is all mine. I flit away time on Twitter, clicking through to interesting or silly links across the internet. I read another chapter in Isaiah. I write or edit or read or think. I look at couches online and order pens and pencils from Amazon so I don't have to leave my house. (Thank you Amazon Prime.) Sometimes when I am tired or have been particularly productive one day, I will watch some Teen Mom (research I say) or read a novel.
At some point I will realize how quickly the time is passing and panic for a brief moment before relishing the fact that I am no longer having to do the kindergarten pick up. No, I still have two and a half more hours of this blessed silence.
For me, silence is golden.
But then so are lunch dates with friends and mornings spent with the moms at church.
Can we make the school day any longer?
For the almost ten years I have been a stay at home mom, which stopped making sense when the kids got old enough for school and activities and we ended up rarely at home. This was how I justified buying a two bedroom condo for five people. "Honey," I explained to my husband, " we are hardly ever home."
And then this summer came and we were home A LOT. Three boys can be noisy. So incredibly noisy.
But fall has finally arrived and my three sweet boys are back at school, and this year for the first time, I have six whole hours to myself. Six hours for me to schedule as I please, no longer forced to follow the designated one giving to me by preschools, play groups, nap times, class times, six month check ups, etc.
Now the three boys and I ride our bikes to school in the morning, the middle one complaining that it is going to kill him each day. But I can be patient through it because in just a few short minutes, we will be at the school, their bikes will be locked up, the bell will ring, and off to class they will go. Leaving me alone for six whole hours. SIX.
So what to do with all that time.
Most days, I start by chatting with friends after the kids walk in their lines into their classrooms and the doors are closed behind them. Sometimes we even head to a nearby coffee shop to experience the joys of being a grown up, out and about without kids.
Eventually I make my way home, I enter the condo, lock the door behind me and just relish in the quiet. So much quiet and it's all mine. I'm greedy that way because I know that soon, sooner than I like, the quiet will be broken by the sounds of fighting amongst brothers and grumbling about homework and guitar practice.
But for now this quiet is all mine. I flit away time on Twitter, clicking through to interesting or silly links across the internet. I read another chapter in Isaiah. I write or edit or read or think. I look at couches online and order pens and pencils from Amazon so I don't have to leave my house. (Thank you Amazon Prime.) Sometimes when I am tired or have been particularly productive one day, I will watch some Teen Mom (research I say) or read a novel.
At some point I will realize how quickly the time is passing and panic for a brief moment before relishing the fact that I am no longer having to do the kindergarten pick up. No, I still have two and a half more hours of this blessed silence.
For me, silence is golden.
But then so are lunch dates with friends and mornings spent with the moms at church.
Can we make the school day any longer?
Friday, September 21, 2012
From the Archives - Forgiveness
I love that (in)courage (in)RL {real life} is spending time on the topic of community. I think so many of us want community, want support and love and friendship and laughter, but we are not sure why we do not feel like we belong. I think this week's question is a good one to consider if you don't feel like you have a community you can call home.
This week the question is "How do we forgive past hurt by community?"
Again, I am going back to the archives for this one. Both because I need to get to back to the book editing but also because I think this story of forgiveness is one that still challenges me. While I address my hurts with my mom in the post, I think any hurt, any need for forgiveness, can garner strength from Mary's story.
This was originally posted in July 2011.
*****
Last Sunday our pastor was set to preach on forgiveness. But instead, he showed a video that someone passed on to him from CBS News. It is the story of a woman who has truly walked the hard road of forgiveness. You can see the story here. Go on over and watch it if you have not heard the story of Mary and Oshea. It is worth your time.
After showing the clip in church, Mary and Oshea came out and shared more of their story with the congregation. What stuck out to me from their talk was that forgiveness did not come easy for Mary. It was a hard process, a long process. It took work on her part, years of prayer and seeking God's heart for Oshea. And while Mary's forgiveness had nothing really to do with Oshea, she forgave him before she ever knew him personally, it was in Oshea's receiving that forgiveness that the miracle grew. Together they have taught the world something vitally important. Together they have shown the power of Christ's forgiveness and love for His children, no matter what.
Hearing Mary talk about forgiveness I began to think about the long road of forgiveness I have been walking. Some hurts, I have been able to forgive quickly. I don't know why. Maybe because the offense didn't feel directed at me even though it was the spark that started the kindling that was my childhood family on fire. Our family was already brittle and weak, easy to catch flame. We had been drifting apart, unable to really enjoy being in the same room all together. There was drama and competition, rage and manipulation. Life with my childhood family was centered around one person. Her mood, her reaction, her opinions and thoughts were the center of our familial universe. One person at the center was not healthy. And so the spark was easier for me to forgive and move on. I understood it, I think, even though I cannot condone the actions my father took to light the match.
Sometimes it is easier to forgive the big sins. I don't know why. I think partly because my mind cannot really manage the pain and partly because God's grace shows up bigger in those deep pains. I know my quick forgiveness has hurt and probably surprised others. Especially since I seem to be having a much harder time forgiving the events, actions, and words at the center of our family that made us brittle and weak. I am still in process with my mother. I am able to say the words, I choose to forgive, as Mary said on Sunday morning. I am able to choose the words but my heart is still not there. My heart is still not ready to live next door to her. I am still on the road. But I really am not sure I want to take any more steps. I am not sure I really want to walk any further down this road. I am just not there yet. I am hopeful though after listening to Mary tell her story that someday my heart will catch up with my head.
Hopeful and yet reserved. Because life is complicated and I am not sure what would have happened with Mary's story if Oshea had not said yes to meeting her, yes to moving to her community, yes to making a better life for himself.
During the church service we sang a song I had never heard before. Today I heard it again on the radio. It is hauntingly beautiful to me and I wanted to share it with you. This is the group Gungor singing their song "Beautiful Things".
This week the question is "How do we forgive past hurt by community?"
Again, I am going back to the archives for this one. Both because I need to get to back to the book editing but also because I think this story of forgiveness is one that still challenges me. While I address my hurts with my mom in the post, I think any hurt, any need for forgiveness, can garner strength from Mary's story.
This was originally posted in July 2011.
*****
Last Sunday our pastor was set to preach on forgiveness. But instead, he showed a video that someone passed on to him from CBS News. It is the story of a woman who has truly walked the hard road of forgiveness. You can see the story here. Go on over and watch it if you have not heard the story of Mary and Oshea. It is worth your time.
After showing the clip in church, Mary and Oshea came out and shared more of their story with the congregation. What stuck out to me from their talk was that forgiveness did not come easy for Mary. It was a hard process, a long process. It took work on her part, years of prayer and seeking God's heart for Oshea. And while Mary's forgiveness had nothing really to do with Oshea, she forgave him before she ever knew him personally, it was in Oshea's receiving that forgiveness that the miracle grew. Together they have taught the world something vitally important. Together they have shown the power of Christ's forgiveness and love for His children, no matter what.
Hearing Mary talk about forgiveness I began to think about the long road of forgiveness I have been walking. Some hurts, I have been able to forgive quickly. I don't know why. Maybe because the offense didn't feel directed at me even though it was the spark that started the kindling that was my childhood family on fire. Our family was already brittle and weak, easy to catch flame. We had been drifting apart, unable to really enjoy being in the same room all together. There was drama and competition, rage and manipulation. Life with my childhood family was centered around one person. Her mood, her reaction, her opinions and thoughts were the center of our familial universe. One person at the center was not healthy. And so the spark was easier for me to forgive and move on. I understood it, I think, even though I cannot condone the actions my father took to light the match.
Sometimes it is easier to forgive the big sins. I don't know why. I think partly because my mind cannot really manage the pain and partly because God's grace shows up bigger in those deep pains. I know my quick forgiveness has hurt and probably surprised others. Especially since I seem to be having a much harder time forgiving the events, actions, and words at the center of our family that made us brittle and weak. I am still in process with my mother. I am able to say the words, I choose to forgive, as Mary said on Sunday morning. I am able to choose the words but my heart is still not there. My heart is still not ready to live next door to her. I am still on the road. But I really am not sure I want to take any more steps. I am not sure I really want to walk any further down this road. I am just not there yet. I am hopeful though after listening to Mary tell her story that someday my heart will catch up with my head.
Hopeful and yet reserved. Because life is complicated and I am not sure what would have happened with Mary's story if Oshea had not said yes to meeting her, yes to moving to her community, yes to making a better life for himself.
During the church service we sang a song I had never heard before. Today I heard it again on the radio. It is hauntingly beautiful to me and I wanted to share it with you. This is the group Gungor singing their song "Beautiful Things".
All this pain
I wonder if I’ll ever find my way
I wonder if my life could really change at all
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found
Could a garden come up from this ground at all
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
You make me new, You are making me new
You make me new, You are making me new
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
I wonder if I’ll ever find my way
I wonder if my life could really change at all
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found
Could a garden come up from this ground at all
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
You make me new, You are making me new
You make me new, You are making me new
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
*****
Here are my past posts for this series:
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