Lessons from Community

February 3, 2015

My last semester of high school something strange happened. My best friend Anne and I started getting invited to slumber parties of the really popular girls.  Maybe it was our Tina Fey/Amy Poehler like humor (yeah, right) or the fact that we had been in a mime and clown group (okay, so not that either) but we said yes and just went with it. Surely this was real community. Community that would last forever.

I didn’t see most of them again until our 10 year reunion. 

I love people. I love relationship.  My biggest love is a group of about 6 or 7 people on some sort of shared adventure. Put me in a room with others who risk to be known and “show their cards” so to speak, and I am one happy girl.  

This weekend I am speaking to a group of college girls and the seniors asked me to speak about community.  I have been praying and mulling over the topic for days now.  I thought I would share some of my observations over the years about what I think does or doesn’t make a community:

1. Real community is hard work.  Rarely does it just happen (unless it is a mission trip, summer project - short trip with a shared goal).
2. Real community requires time. 
3. Disappointment with others can lead to something good.
4. Conflict either deepens the relationship or ends it (ending meaning be shallow or fake and act like nothings wrong)
5. Real community requires risk to share and be known - believes the best. 
6. Real community lets others be a mess in your presence. As Larry Crabb puts it, “You can be a mess because you are in the presence of love.”
7. Real community won’t happen if you are with people who cannot give, they only take and focus on what is in it for them.
8. Real community gives space and time for God to move in one another's lives without feeling the need to "fix."
9. Real community includes the social, but if it is just social then it isn’t real community.
10. Real community with certain people is often just for a season.
11. Real community shows up in others dark night of the soul.
12. Real community sacrifices for the others.
13. Real community reminds you of who you are and who you are not.

I could elaborate on each point, but I think I will give the talk first. :)  I would love to hear your lessons what makes or doesn’t make real community.

39+366 days

Two months before my 30th birthday I woke up in a full blown panic attack.  A producer from the Dr. Phil show (I cannot make this stuff up) had contacted me wanting to know my story with getting ready to turn 30 and the fear that surrounded it.  I remember throwing around phrases like “life isn’t what I thought it would be” and “Great Aunt Wanda asks me why I’m not married every time I see her” and sweating.  Wait, sweating doesn’t happen until 47.  I errantly calmed myself down by saying, “It is ok. At least you aren’t 40 and God would never have you be 40 and single and not a mom.”  Sigh of relief.  The imagined sweats dissipated. Crisis averted.

I am typing this blog as my cab driver from Bangladesh weaves in and out of Manhattan traffic on a beautiful, cold and sunny MLK day, my 40th birthday, and I’m dressed like a string of colored Christmas lights. 

I’m remembering the first summer I lived in NYC - ironically I was 30.  My friend Chad and I ventured out into the city and we stopped in the middle of the sidewalk outside of Grand Central and opened up a map. In my mind we screamed tourist and were about two fanny packs shy of being mugged. I was scared to go out of my apartment by myself and the first time that I attempted I accidentally got on an express train and wound up in Harlem at night.  Man, did I think that was a good story. White southern girl hits the big city and lands in Harlem at night. I went to staff meeting the next morning to express my grand bravery (and ignorance) to the beloved New York Cru staff to which one said mockingly and hilariously, “Ohhhhh!!! So scary! Harlem!”  Harlem is amazing and the people are wonderful and rich in history and pride and beauty. I just had never had that perspective before because I had never been and obviously had no idea what I was talking about, just stereotypes and fear of the unknown. 

I have had a lot of time to reflect over the past six months as I have wanted to embrace this new season of 39+366days. Hashtag denial.  Many of you have written me letters about what you wish you had known at 40, over 50 of you took a day leading up to and on into next week to pray for me. Some have sent flowers and given gift cards.  My family threw me the most beautiful and fun party which 70 people gave up a holiday weekend to drive in for or attend. I have been honored in every way and am deeply grateful and I know that I am deeply loved.

I believe 40, similar to visiting New York, will require some confidence and guts.  I always feel small when I first enter The City - a little intimidated and surrounded by the unfamiliar.  People either love New York or they hate it.  You can look at it as overcrowded, rude, and dirty or you can embrace the culture, the different feel of each neighborhood and realize how much God loves people. This whole process of turning 40 thing will require me to keep looking at it honestly and through a different lens than my 29 year old self having a panic attack.  

As I was walking this afternoon, I stopped as I was passing Juilliard. Obviously photography is not my calling.  Juilliard was a dream of mine in high school.  I wanted to be an actress and win my first Oscar by the time I was 25.  Never mind the fact that I really can’t act, nor can I sing well and my attempt at ballet culminated into greatness the day I mastered the Running Man and Roger Rabbit.  

God’s dreams are always better.  You know what is fun?  When my dreams and His are the same.  Today I find myself NOT having panic attacks, but walking around the streets of New York singing and waving. Oh yes, people. You can take the girl out of the country, but not the country out of the girl. 

There are no false assurances today, only real ones. Real ones such as this:

When you enter in to the places you thought you would never recover from, you will find something solid. The lie is that there won’t be anything solid for you to stand on. Your fear will tell you to avoid, but when you “go there” you will find yourself more anchored and trusting.  You will learn about God and his heart for you and here’s the kicker, your heart for Him.  If you follow Jesus, he gave you a new heart.  This is the unshakeable foundation of your life - that no matter what does or doesn’t happen, He is trustworthy and has bigger dreams than you could ever dream for yourself, even in the midst of longing, loss, gains, and waiting.  Especially in the waiting. 

Thank you for sharing in my life.  I love you all so very much. 

Now consider this 40 horse beaten and dead. 

Confession is healing

This past weekend I sat in on a conference about becoming a true spiritual community.  Sounds kinda weird, huh?  I did not do trust falls or yoga, but I did hear a lot of powerful content that brought about a much needed breakthrough in my desire to love people around me and to confess more of my junk.  

If you are reading this and you do not have a faith background let me introduce you to a commonly used word in the Protestant community: sin.  Sin has been defined for me as anything that misses the mark of perfection.  I believe that we all miss the mark of perfection and only God is perfect in everything He has done, is doing and will do.  This weekend the speaker expanded on sin and he said, “sin is a strong commitment to self.”  OUCH!!!!!!

Sin is a strong commitment to self.  

If this is true, and I believe it is, then we are always looking out for self.  One way of looking at “sin” - a strong commitment to self, is to look at what we fear.  Fear is a powerful and driving force that will direct our life.  If you aren’t real sure what your “sin struggles” are, look at what you are afraid of and you will see how your actions, interactions and thoughts are driven to live a life in which you avoid what you fear.

Living this way keeps us from entering in to one another’s lives in a way that is pure and good.  As I begin to see what fears drive me, I see ways in which I interact with people that are manipulative and self-centered.  Sometimes I can have the appearance of being others centered, but in moments of honesty and revelation through God’s kindness of his Spirit, I SEE and I confess and “it is all grace” as C.S. Lewis would say.  

Today would you join me in seeing what your strong commitment to self is?  Would you look and see what fears are driving you and keeping you from others-centered relationships, peace & trust with God?  It might be painful, but confession and repentance (a deep change of heart) will free you to love just a little bit more like Jesus.  Not only that, but you will experience God’s love to your own wounds, realizing you are too needy to not accept his gift.  Humbling and sacred.

WITH you in it, my friends.

Pick-up lines from *&^%

A friend of mine once asked a group of girls to be honest about being hit on.  She said, “I don’t care if a homeless man has just climbed out of the garbage dump, if he whistles at you, you still think, ‘Yeah, I still got it.’”  Many argued with her,  but I laughed and agreed.  #issues

Yesterday I was leaving a store after having been fitted for my 24th bridesmaid dress.  That’s another blog, but just know I’m trying to catch up with Katherine Heigl.  I walked out of the store and two men walked by and one said, “I like your trunk.”  I looked around because I was not in a car nor was I near my car.  The man grinned at me and I tugged my shirt down.  My friend Eric asked me if I had on an elephant costume.   Seeing as how I do not normally leave the house (or stay in the house) in my Dumbo costume,  the answer was “no.”

I started to think about other times I have been “hit on” or stories my friends have shared. 

Recently my friend Haley was hit on by an older man  in Thailand.  He asked her to come die with him.  Was this his version of The Notebook?

Let’s not forget the cross-cultural approach: the one-legged Russian war vet who asked my boyfriend at the time if he could borrow me for the night.  Um, no.  

Or what about the carload of guys who pulled up to me on campus and asked if I, “got down with the brown?”  Jesus, take the wheel.  

Here, however, is my all time favorite.  This is where my brother-in-law or fellow New York City Cru friends would say, “You’re an idiot.”  I spent a few summers in NYC with Cru and there was a lovely OLD Pakistani man who worked the front desk/entrance to the building.  Sweet old man.  First mistake was to think old=sweet.  He brought me gifts, asked me to dinner and I said, “Please bring your wife.”  (Here I will note that I almost said, “Please bring your wife, Papaw.”) He did not want to bring his wife.  He wanted another wife.  

It’s a jungle out there, women.  Stay strong and away from old men.

I would love to hear your best, “Did he just say that?” story, because we all need to laugh a little more.

Blessings from the Bathroom

I found a way to survive an airport on a Sunday.  Play Christmas music and go to the bathroom next to gate E 5. 

The plane landed and I had just enough time to, you know, do some business before I had to jot quickly to my  gate that would take me to beloved Rocky Top.  I put in my headphones as I walked in and there was the jolliest  woman with lashes that extended to the Atlantic and a smile that disarmed defensive and weary passengers.  I happened to be a physically weary passenger fighting a cold and longing for my sweet home on West Glenwood.  

She greeted me as if I had entered the pearly gates and I was her long lost daughter.  “Welcome!!! I am so glad you are here!”  

I stared and then I looked around to see who she was talking to and point to myself with a question mark in my eye.

"Yes! Welcome!"

Does she know I am in a bathroom in the Charlotte airport?  Does she know SHE is in a bathroom in the Charlotte airport?

She continues. “I want you to have a blessed day.  I am glad to see you.” 

I continue staring.  

“Be BLESSED everyone!” she booms in her beautifully deep voice with a side of sass and warmth.  

How does she do it?  How does she work a job of standing 5 feet away from constant crap (literally) and have such joy in her heart?   I did my business and gave her a smile and put my earbuds back in and the song, “Our God is With Us - Emmanuel” was playing.  Looking around at all the sizes, shapes, colors and temperaments of people walking by, I could sense His heart for this woman.  Many people were coming and going out of that room without giving her a second glance.  She was present, even if no one noticed or acknowledged her, but was anyone WITH her?

He is WITH us. 

He is WITH me. 

Many times I am the hustling woman through the airport with a frantic look on her face, just trying to get to the next place in hopes of it taking me home, the place I really want to be, but I miss his WITHness. He is always present, but presence can be true of God and be oblivious to me. Somewhere in there I miss the togetherness that is always mine for the taking. This WITHness is becoming my life calling and life longing.  To enjoy His WITH as I am WITH others - even in a crowded airport.   That woman in the bathroom by E5 was WITH those she served, with such presence and joy. God Bless her.  I think God enjoys her so much.  I hope she knows that that He is WITH her today.

The sun sank down over the gulf and I could not quit smiling.  Feeling life and love pour over me was bringing such joy that I almost wept with gratitude.  I was sitting on the beach thinking about God keeping his promises. 

Exodus 6 tells of God talking with Moses and saying that now is the time that he wants to free the Israelites from the 400+ years of slavery that they have endured.  He wants to be their God and they be his beloved people.  God tells Moses to go tell the captives what HE has said. THIS IS THE BEST NEWS!  However, v. 9 of Exodus 6 says this, 

“Moses spoke thus to the people of Israel, but they did not listen to Moses, because of their broken spirit and harsh slavery.”

I felt a punch in the gut.

I rubbed my eyes and said, “Wait! Did I read that wrong?”

I reread the passage and just sat in silence.  The familiar moving of the Holy Spirit was happening.  Logos explained “broken spirit” like this: 

“it was the inward pressure caused by deep anguish that prevented proper breathing—like children sobbing and gasping for their breath"

Let that settle.

I thought it sounded like a panic attack. 

The captives were about to be freed!! After years and years of pain, heartache, silence, wondering when the suffering would end, no glimmer of hope, and FINALLY news of hope comes and they could not even hear it.  Why?  “because of their broken spirit and harsh slavery.” 

Being the one in captivity during seasons of life where it is difficult to hear God even if what he is telling you is good news is frightening.

When the internal anguish is great the struggle to receive hope can be elusive - to the point of the promises being what we might say as “too good to be true.” 

Are you crying so much about your life and disappointments that the thought of having hope feels terrifying?

Have you believed that hope teases you? Hope does not tease.  As my friend tells me, “Timing is what throws you off.”  Not hope. 

A lot of energy is wasted by ignoring what is going on inside.  In the circles I move in many cover it up with spiritual talk, doing “more ministry” and dodging questions that get to the heart.  It's not considered "spiritual" to talk about emotions.  Tell that to the Israelites. 

I continue to have to acknowledge how I am like that child sobbing and gasping for breath before I can actually begin to calm, breath again and HEAR.  

Hearing and receiving can bring even a twinge of Hope that can speak to the gasping for air places in our life and calm us like a child in need of comfort.

And get this...even though the Israelites could not receive the good news Moses shared, it did not stop God from rescuing them.  

Ain't no summer lovin'

This blog post will “bless your heart.” You will walk away with a deeper meaning of life.  

(Clear throat) 

True confession. Summer is my 4th favorite season.  All you summer peeps who get giddy about the lake, tank tops and the heat - well, good for you. It has taken me approximately 39 years to admit this earth shattering news.  I have been in denial. Who doesn’t like summer?  Apparently only people who have no soul. Some say that redheads do not have a soul.  You know what else those same people aren’t saying? Redheads spontaneously combust when out in the sun for longer than 4 minutes.  

Here is a list of what a person who has a soul (non-gingers) loves about summer:

• wearing almost no clothing because it is hot
• the heat
• going to the pool everyday because of heat
• getting tan because the sun is relentlessly beating down on the souls of summer lovers
• wearing chaco’s with dresses
• splash pads because sometimes it is hotter than 3 hells in the summer
• more things to do outside. in the heat. 

Here is a list of what a person who has no soul (gingers) dislike about summer:

• combustion
• chronic sunburn

• wearing zinc oxide that reminds you of when you were 5 and at the beach with your sun loving family 
  
• wearing chaco’s with dresses because chaco’s make me feel like a man (sorry, but they do). I guess I have bigger issues than the sun. 
  
• mosquitos

If Ann Voskamp (1000gifts) happened to read this blog she would come have a heart to heart with me.  So, for Ann’s sake and everyone else I’ll list what I am grateful for about today. 

• I am grateful that I can paddle board and not combust
• I am grateful for hiding my chaco’s for half the year and dealing with my masculine issues
• I am grateful that the mosquitos will go back from the pit of you know where so I can swing on my porch and enjoy fall
• I am grateful for pumpkins, white lights, a breeze, warm drinks, hay rides, and CLOTHING.
• I am grateful that I can stand on my porch today, jump up and down, waving and yelling to summer, “Don’t let the door hit ya……”