inviting in community
As I’ve spent this week easing back into my home-life here in the Mitten, I’ve ruminated a fair bit on the idea of community. My time in England was a flurry of many things: food, wine, friendship, green fields, ancient stone, and dance parties. But it was also a snapshot into a culture that values a communal way of living and it definitely nudged in me a desire to live more consistently connected with those around me.
I’ve lived by myself for two and a half years now and it’s been a good and necessary season for me. But I’ve found myself aching for community lately; for roommates to connect with, to eat with, to cry with, to watch BBC shows and drink tea with. The past few days in my life have been bittersweet ones and I found myself longing for others to come alongside me, to help give me the strength to bear the answers to the questions I’ve been asking. I am so grateful for the friends whose support shines in other ways (phone calls, texts, Facebook), yet I felt keenly the absence of consistent physical presence. I don’t really know what to do about this; my friends who I would love to live with aren’t really in a place to sign leases and move in their couches. As in so many other seasons in my life, all I can do is hold this loosely and openly, trusting that He who moves in mysterious ways is still telling a redemptive and true story in my life, and hasn’t run out of ideas yet.
I find my heart brimming with wordless prayers today; a begging to simply feel close and held.
That’s all I can manage for right now.