From Lonely, To Community

We returned safely home from Italy a couple nights ago, and it is hard to believe now that it wasn't all a dream. It was the trip of a lifetime. Florence, Tuscany/Chianti, and Venice...The best spaghetti with meat balls I have ever tasted, some of the prettiest vistas I have ever seen, a gondola ride through the canals of Venice, cappucino four times each day, and the man I love right there with me, experiencing it all.

And now I am back in my home, sitting on this sofa... and I am once again bobbing in the wake of another epic vacation.

Last year, when we returned from Paris (our first anniversary trip), I remember feeling this exact way... the excitement is still rushing through me, the memories will stay with me forever - yet a bit of melancholy has somehow seeped in along with the memories. Every experience has its hello and its goodbye, and of course goodbyes are never easy. I am grateful for what we had, and I feel a bit of loss that I cannot maintain the experience longer. It is part of life.

Tim is back on the road again, and we are very much back into our normal life. The normalcy, after something so extraordinary, admittedly leaves me sometimes feeling a bit parched... it finds me reaching again, even though I was just so recently full. It puzzles me. It aches.

As C.S. Lewis put it so well, "It is when I was happiest that I longed most. The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing... to find the place where all the beauty came from." (Till We Have Faces)

Yes.

All of this expresses itself in my emotions today, and I am glad I have an empty weekend to be introspective about it all, and write. I am thankful to the Lord, for His blessings.

I am thankful to Him, for the longing.

- - -

We have lived in our new home now, for almost four months. Since returning on our trip, there have been several moments this weekend that have caught me off-guard, as if I've woken into that recollection again. I was outside trimming the bushes out in our front yard yesterday, and the neighbors probably thought I was insane, as I stopped trimming the bushes to turn my face up to the sky and close my eyes... I was thanking God for bushes to trim.

This afternoon, when I was cleaning the kitchen counters and listening to music - the sunlight caught my eye, as it streamed through our back door and hit the hardwood floor. I will never know why this sight moves me so... but it does. Something about it reminds me of peaceful times, and settles my heart.

To know these moments, is to know an aching joy... and after such a glorious vacation, with Tim once again on the road, I find that I am vulnerable. I am a little bit undone, and close to tears.

For a split second, it occurs to me once again, how difficult it is to experience moments like these alone... But then I remember what God has been doing the past couple months, and my heart finds its peace again. It finds its hope, in what God is up to.

- - -

A few weeks back, I began to pray about something big... or at least, big to me. I began praying about opening up our new home, to begin a community group.

If I am completely honest, I didn't start out by praying about it. I actually didn't start by initiating it at all. Rather, the thought came unbidden, pushing itself into my heart one evening when I was feeling lonely... again.

Here's some background.

The past two years have been rough, in the area of community - especially community that supports Tim and I both, as a couple. Our lifestyle takes much of its shape from the structure of Tim's job and schedule - which by its nature, fluctuates regularly, making routines a bit more difficult to form sometimes. We have kept a lookout for opportunities, and have kept our prayers open for creative ways to build personal community... but the lack of traction has at times been very discouraging.

Especially for me. It has made for some really lonely Friday nights, when Tim is gone. It has forced me to pray... to ask God some tough questions, and to learn to listen for and accept what He answers.

I'll go ahead and share some of the questions that I have posed, in the lonely moments. Questions like...

What am I doing wrong, in my friendships? What am I supposed to be doing? What are all the other married couples doing? What am I missing? 

What kind of friend should I be? What kind of friend do I want to be, regardless of whether or not it is reciprocated? 

What do I have to offer Nashville? What do I have to offer, period? Do people need anything that I have to give? Do I have anything to give? Is there anything special that You can call out in me?

What if people see my need? What if people see that I am lonely? 

What if I could get past all of that... What could You even do here, through me? 

And God answered, by reminding me of Moses.

- - -

Reading Exodus 3 and 4 allows me to listen into the first of many life-changing conversations, between God and Moses. It began with a burning bush.

Moses was tending sheep one day, and saw a bush that was on fire - yet was not being consumed by the flames. As his intrigue drew him closer to the bush, God spoke to him and called his name. Moses answered, by saying "Here i am." (3:4)

In the next several verses, God proceeds to expound on who He is, and then begins to explain a new mission that He would like Moses to set forth on, and to lead - to rescue the Isrealites from the burden of the Egyptians' slavery. (3:5-10)

The next part is where it really begins to resonate with me... the part where Moses is human.

He doesn't feel like he is anyone special. (3:11) He worries what people will think of him - will they even take him seriously? He is insecure about his authority, and wonders if others will question it as well. (3:13) He fears that people won't even listen to him... or that if they do, he might be deemed a fool. (4:1) He feels inadequate in his abilities. He is insecure in what he has to offer. (4:10)

All of his excuses though, in the end, amount to disobedience. He flat out says he can't do it. He asks God to send someone else. (4:13)

God then says no, and proceeds to equip him with what he would need, to begin. (4:14-17) History is set on a new course.

- - -

Obviously, in the broad perspective of things, starting a community group in your house is not near as epic as saving an entire nation from slavery.

But in my heart... it kinda is.

Because no matter how big or small a thing is that God asks me to do, I still start out in that same place of fear. I have to face down those same doubts and feelings of inadequacy. I am called to that same exact point of surrender - and the result is always some form of freedom. The direction of each call and the scale of it, is determined by God... but that first step often feels exactly the same.

So when I was sitting alone a few weeks ago, feeling lonely, and asking God how I could fix it... how I could find community for myself and my husband, and wondering what else we could do... God answered, by prompting me to open up my home.

To open up my heart, and be honest about my testimony with some friends here. To not be ashamed by how lonely the past two years have been. To be honest about the fact that Tim's and my marriage is not as perfect as we want it to be. To allow myself to be an encouragement to others who struggle with similar issues or similar scheduling difficulties. To lead by example. To just start. To plant a seed, and allow God to grow it...

And to trust Him, that He will.

- - -

The night before we left for Italy, we had our first community group at our house. We had a cookout that everyone contributed to, and then Tim and I shared our hearts. We were incredibly humbled by the response from our friends, in the confirmation that we are not alone.

Is there any greater joy sometimes, than to know that?

It is amazing how quickly something can happen, once the first timid step has been taken. Once burdens have been admitted and shared, God moves in and equips us with what we need. Often, what I need and crave most is assurance... confirmation that someone else can feel the aching joys I feel, or that someone else might understand the things that God is doing in our marriage. Proof that I am not the only female who is 28 and is still not a mommy. Assurance that I am not alone, in wanting to grow and be more, as a wife, as a christian, and as an artist.

Assurance that I am not alone, in feeling like Moses felt... in telling God, "Here I am."

- - -

Community. I am learning so much about it, and all the places it can begin from... how its truest source is always God, and the stories He has written on each of us. Our testimonies, our scars, our victories, our hopes and fears... they transform into something beautiful, once they are shared.

It makes the coming home from vacation easier than it was last year, and it gives purpose to the unpacking... to have hope in what lies ahead. To know there are people here with us now, that understand the aching joys along the road from lonely, to community.