Neighbors

Heartbroken…There…I Said It

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“How are you doing?”

It’s an ordinary, everyday question. But some people have a knack for asking it more like, “No, really. How are you doing?”

I’ve got more than my share of them. Over the last four days, three of them pried. I skirted one, dumped on the other, and indulged the last one.

It wasn’t until listening to the end of the podcast episode I posted about yesterday that the one word to describe how I’m doing surfaced. And it’s one I have never used for myself. I’ve felt and experienced it, just never declared it to be a current condition.

Heartbroken.

Kate: If we think of ourselves as a very sad but also kind of broken in certain parts person, it can feel like, well, that’s not the person who is going to be able to help very much, do very much. We’re already consumed by all the things that have made our lives difficult or tragic in the first place. We are already too aware of the fact that we are living inside of like crosscurrents of things we can’t fix. Kids with intractable problems. Parents with intractable problems. Jobs with intractable problems. But you and I both agree that there’s something weird that happens to the broken hearted, is that there’s like, a kind of an inside-out-ness that happens that can make us maybe exactly the right people to live in unfinished times.

Parker: I think so. This level of engagement, either in politics or in personal and communal life seems to me to require the kind of opening that can comes through broken heartedness. Absolutely. So just as you said, I’ve thought a lot about the fact that there are two ways for the heart to break. It can shatter into shards and just lie useless on the floor, never to be put back together again. Or you can exercise your heart on a daily basis by taking in the little losses, the little deaths, you know, those things that are feel hard to absorb, the news that’s hard to absorb, take it and let it exercise that muscle the way a runner exercises muscles so they won’t snap under stress, and the heart has a chance then to become so supple that it will break open into largeness rather than apart in into shards. And, you know, the most trustworthy people in my life are people who have known broken heartedness, and those who have known it in depths. Those are the people I can go to and say, and tell it the way it is for me. And then, and in the process, experience healing. They don’t have answers for me anymore than I have answers for them. But we can have a conversation rooted in broken heartedness and honesty about that experience that goes somewhere humanly, right?

In my inside-out-ness, I have to say I’ve probably been heartbroken for years without acknowledging it. The recent storms and reactions to the election have brought me to this awareness that I’m oddly thankful for.

I ask myself what’s this about. I didn’t personally experience loss from any of the three hurricanes. Nor did I personally lose a bid for public office. What’s there to be brokenhearted about?

The answer may seem obvious to you, but it’s not always been obvious to me. My Enneagram 1, Myers Briggs ISTJ self tends to be pretty cut and dry. But not recently. At least not these last three months.

I’m leaning into the belief that loving your neighbor as yourself means seeing ourselves as one. When the community hurts, you hurt. When the community loses, you lose. When any portion of the country cries and mourns, you cry and mourn.

The years of brokenheartedness I’m most aware of has to do with my personal church history. To see the church in the middle of the polarization of the country these last five years continues to cut deep. This last week, my heart jolted, even collapsed, as one side hurries to make false biblical comparisons while the other huddles in fear and shock. It’s war. And it’s heartbreaking.

On my run this morning I asked myself two questions: 1) How long do I allow myself to be heartbroken over these two things that personally don’t impact me? 2) What am I doing about this status?

I answered the first one with more questions:

  • Is there a formula? Like, three times the amount of time it takes for all the debris to disappear.
  • Isn’t there more to recovery than just removing and repairing the visible damage?
  • Feels like there’s grief everywhere, right? How long does that take?
  • God’s probably been heartbroken over the Church for longer than I’ve been alive. Where does that leave me?
  • Feels like heartbreak is part of life, and I’m just now owning it. Or at least on behalf of my neighbor. I’ve missed it for a long time, right?

As for question two, my best answer for my spirit was this: Don’t Rush.

  • Don’t Rush to Retort
  • Don’t Rush to Judge
  • Don’t Rush to Wholeness
  • Don’t Rush to Solutions
  • Don’t Rush to Fix
  • Don’t Rush to Start the Day
  • Don’t Rush to Comfort

To the one I skirted, I’m heartbroken. There. I said it.

Cover photo credit: https://www.instagram.com/theoriginalrtpix?igsh=MTkydWQ1MG9qMnJiaA==

Coughing Up Your Underwear

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This past week has been full of stories. They range from brokenness and sorrow to joy and hope. That’s exactly what was in the room one morning this past week when I heard this story.

The storyteller was mostly wanting to express appreciation for those who served her before Hurricane Ian arrived. But her story ended up vividly painting how others had been served by her generosity which started by an invitation.

She evacuated. When she returned, many of her neighbors were without electricity and water and had been for a week. In her efforts to serve them, it crossed her mind that humans feel better when they feel fresh. Practically, that means we feel fresh when we have showered and when we can put on clean clothes. Carrying that thought, she decided to invite her neighbors to use her shower and hand over their laundry.

She didn’t mean to be funny, but the way she described her neighbors response made me chuckle. Taking up the offer to shower is one thing, but handing over your laundry creates angst. Knowing your neighbor is going to see your underwear crinkles the brow. Her words were, “They had to cough up their underwear.”

That imagery still puts a smile on my face. Many tangents to consider with that portrait, but I’ll follow the hint she gave. Her neighbors were in a needy position; her invitation came with a choice. And the one thing that could keep them from feeling fresh was pride. Which would they choose?

We experience tremendous freedom when we hand over our pride. Being seen just as we are requires vulnerability. Fear leads us to think that absolutely no one will still love me after they learn what I’ve been hiding, what I did or what happened to me, what I think, or what I feel. Fear has programmed us to expect shame or rejection when the truth is we most likely will receive understanding and comfort.

These thoughts led me to a song I came across recently by Land of Color. It’s also an invitation. The imaginary isn’t about laundry or underwear but the familiar scene of what’s possible when we allow the Jordan to wash over us. I believe both are freeing.

Come on down and know it’s okay to cough up what’s keeping you from knowing peace and freedom.

P.S. Whistling is also freeing. Give it a try.

Photo by Peter Aschoff on Unsplash

Sunday after Ian

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I left town for Ian; technically, I left the state. Even though I don’t regret the decision, there’s a weird sense of guilt that comes with it (that may be for another post).

I got back to West Bradenton Thursday evening. Electricity on. Wi-Fi working. Cul-de-sac cleaned. It was like nothing had happened. But all you have to do is open any social media platform and be brought into the reality that something most certainly had happened.

Friday morning, my church sent out an email stating that the Sarasota elementary school where we meet isn’t able to host us today. So the challenge was issued to, instead of attending a service, serve the community. Here’s the challenge:

Even though we may not be gathering as a church this Sunday, we can still BE THE CHURCH. This Sunday, we invite you to join us in a SERVE SUNDAY. Would you get out and serve the people around you? Imagine the church in action spread throughout our neighborhoods and our city. What a beautiful thing that will be.  
Serve Sunday doesn’t have to look like just cutting debris and clearing yards, although it might be. This could look like making a meal with your kids for families still without power. This could look like taking some cookies to the local fire department. This could look like simply walking the neighborhood and checking in on each home, asking if they need anything.  
Let’s do this, if we see a need, let’s meet a need.

My guilt was already driving me to do something, which I managed to do on Friday and Saturday. I could have let that be it. But something was telling me that wasn’t enough.

This was supposed to be the first Sunday of my serving in a role that had me showing up at 7AM. With that off the table, I decided to drive to the beach to run, of course, but also to find answers to “enough.” Three hours later, God had given more answers than imaginable.

Before heading to the beach, I stopped to fill up the car. I overheard normal conversation about how other customers had fared the week and how challenging it was to have to keep generators running. AWARENESS #1: Not everyone has power yet.

I always park on the Gulf side of Coquina Beach. But not today. The main public parking was not open. Across the street, however, is a smaller parking lot where boat trailers park and have water entry access. And across the street is where you get a great view of sunrise. I arrived just in time to get this shot.

AWARENESS #2: The sun always rises.

I took off north to head back to Cortez road and cross the bridge to Cortez Village. I had just come to the first bend in the sidewalk and this is what I faced (I took pictures after my run for better lighting).

AWARENESS #3: Ian didn’t respect age.

Few people were moving about as I made my way to the bridge. Honestly, I’m not sure how many people are back. Other than cars on the road, it felt mostly abandoned. When I got up to the bridge, I was thinking about just running up to the draw bridge and turning around, but I felt the urge to continue over. As I ran down the other side, my left shoe felt loose. At the foot of the bridge was a slight right turn into a mobile home park that I have never explored. I saw a sitting bench, so I paused there to tie my shoe. That led me down a further exploration of this park and Cortez Village, which was a first.

All along my run to that point, my “enough” was to pray for the residents, visitors, store owners, and businesses of Coquina Beach. As I continued that as I ran through the village, out of nowhere sat this little neighborhood church.

Photo from their Facebook page

At first, I ran by it. But then I knew I was to pause and serve this congregation by praying for them. I walked the parking lot. Nothing seemed damaged. It didn’t even look like there had been any debris. Either they’d already cleaned it up and disposed of it, or this little spot had not been touched. I counted the parking spaces; only 15 spaces, four of them handicapped. I thought about the pastor of this congregation. How unique his service is. How alone he may feel. How tempted he may be to believe the lie that his work doesn’t matter. AWARENESS #4: All service to others is service to God.

As I started back over the bridge to head back to my car, I still was asking God to show me what else I could do besides pray. The line “let’s meet a need“ from the email was my focus. And then it was clear. I had already heard the need. The folks buying gas beside me earlier illustrated a clear need people have. That was the final “enough.”

So back to the gas station I went. And I’m thinking, this is going to be a little weird-walking up to strangers and offering to pay for their gas. And my counter to my self talk was, “It’s only weird if you make it weird, John.”

My question after I pulled into a parking space was, how do I determine who to approach. I decided to just watch and see who might look like they had the most need. And as I watched and waited, it became clear.

I ended up approaching two customers. The first one was an elderly couple in an older car with a handicap license plate. He started walking toward the store with cash in his hand. When I asked if he’d allow me to pay for his gas with my card, he paused to see if I was serious. I let the silence speak. He said, “I have the money.” I replied, “I see that, but how about you keep it for something else.” And that was it. Nothing weird. Just mutual gratefulness. AWARENESS #5: Generosity is a universal language.

The second customer I suspected was serving others himself. He opened his truck’s tailgate and started taking the caps off of three 5-gallon gas cans. When I walked up and asked him if he’d paid for his gas yet, he said no. I asked then, “Will you let me pay for your gas?” Too bad we haven’t figured out how to take photos just with eye contact yet. He looked stunned, and his mind was swirling. Again I let the silence speak. The first thing he could say was, “I’m usually the one offering to help others. No one has ever asked me something like that.” My search was over. Customer #2 was enough. Those gas cans were to keep the generators running in his neighborhood. AWARENESS #6: Seek and you will find…God honors those who serve their neighbors.

Thank you, Hope City, for the challenge. The Sunday after Ian will always serve me as a reminder of the many ways God gives us enough.

500, working on 1,000

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Yesterday morning I had a minor fall while running, so I’m sidelined for a short time. In my world, that means it’s time to hit the pool.

My pool routine is pretty basic-30 minutes of laps in the community pool where I live. Usually no one is there, so I have it to myself.

About 5 minutes into my lap routine, I see a neighbor, who I guess to be around 80 years old, heading up the parking lot to the pool entrance. She casually enters the pool area, but she appears to also have a routine. Like me, she’s here to get to work, not socialize. We’ve never met, but we greet one another and go about our routine.

At the time, I didn’t know what hers was. She did her thing while I did mine, opposite sides of the pool. Twenty minutes later, she was done and heading to the gate to leave.

She wished me a pleasant swim to which I replied, “Five more minutes.”

“I do 500 strokes. I’m working on getting to 1,000, but I’m not there yet,” she expressed peacefully but with a little excitement. Then off she went.

I smiled as she walked away. Several thoughts rushed through my mind. “How sharp…Good for you…Did you really just count to and swim 500 strokes…So that’s your secret.”

Thanks for the life lesson, neighbor.

Have a plan. Have a goal. Be happy where you are. Strive to improve.

Photo by Thomas Park on Unsplash

Fruity Fridays: Love is Dirty

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by Jeremy Nixon (A nobody fireman trying to do it right, but mostly getting it wrong)

What is Love? 

Everyone has a picture of love in their head. Love is so many different things to so many different people. It kind of depends on where you’re at in life as to what love looks like to you. I think that we view love differently. To some it’s attainable, to some it’s something one can feel, touch, see or grab a hold of. Still to others it’s something that they feel is unattainable. 

What does love look like?

To some love looks like going to KFC after they’ve gotten your order wrong and biting your tongue and being very nice. Sometimes love looks like a spouse needing a back and neck rub. Sometimes love looks like giving some money to a homeless person. 

God has painted pictures of love throughout the Bible. Story after story show us God’s love. It doesn’t always look peachy (pun intended) all the time. Remember Job? 

1 John 4:16 says “God is love, and whoever remains in love remains in God and God in him.” 

Jesus came down to earth to show us what love is and how to love. God says to love Him. He also calls us to love our neighbor. When Jesus came to earth he had many neighbors and he loved on people everywhere he went. He painted us a picture of how we should love. 

Jesus’ love is unconditional. It always has been and it always will be. Paul describes love in 1 Corinthians 13 like this: Love is patient, love is kind. Love is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.

Jesus had passion every step he took, every story he turned around and every conversation that he had. I can’t help but think this is what we are called to do as His children.  

Jesus showed us how to love all the way to the cross. He was free of sin yet he took a beating for you and me. He strapped that cross on his back and walked through the city dragging that cross on his back, and then he stretched out his arms so they could nail his hands and feet to that cross to take on my sin and your sin. That is love. 

John wrote it down like this: “Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13

Are you ready for that? I’ll tell you what I think love is – it’s dirty. It’s going against every grain and doing things that no one else is willing to do. It’s being willing to lay down your life for someone else. 

Fruit is grown outside. It endures rain and sunshine, high wind and extreme heat. But when it’s full grown, it’s the sweetest thing you have ever had. Jesus calls us to go and tell. Go get dirty, love God, love people and let God be honored by you in your life. Enjoy the sweet, sweet fruit.