Deep Breathing for the Soul

I can be a very task-oriented person. I love words, facts, ideas. As a result, I’m a good communicator, a strong writer. But because of those strengths, I can end up, if I’m not careful, lonely, isolated.

This summer I have two huge writing projects on my desk. And I’m working away on them (which is one reason why you haven’t seen much from me on this blog lately). But I try to take time in each day for some face time (not just Facebook) with friends, my kids and husband. I need to connect with real people in my real life, to talk, to listen, to do things together.

So I took my kids to the city to go out to breakfast and then to visit Willow’s Chicago campus. I went bike riding with friends, had lunch with another friend. We were created for community, and while I value the on-line community I find on certain blogs and Facebook, we all need actual face to face connection with other people.

How do you connect with others? How do you find friends?

Next week, I’ll meet with a writer’s group I recently joined. I actually sort of begged to get in, knowing I need other writers to talk to–people who assure me I’m not so strange. We chat via email a lot, sharing updates about our writing and careers, sharing links to stuff we’ve published online, and so on. While that’s fun, it’s not as deep as what gets shared when we gather in someone’s living room after the kids are in bed and talk about the challenges and joys of our writing journey.

We were all made for community. If we are seeking to follow Christ, we need others who can encourage us on that journey. We were never made to go it alone, especially spiritually.  What I want to know is–where do you find community and connection? If that’s missing from your life, what’s one step you could take to seek it out?

My husband called me at about 6:40 pm. “Is it okay if my small group meets at our house tonight?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said. “What time?”

“Seven,” he said. I realized that “is it okay?” means “I’ve already invited them to…”

There was a day this would have unhinged me. But today, it did not. For one thing, this same husband had cleaned up the kitchen this morning before leaving for work. And my kids are on vacation this week, which means the house stays cleaner longer. I’m also really grateful that my husband is in a men’s group.

 But even when they’re here, my kids, now teens, do not wreak havoc in the house the way they did when they were younger. Back then, they seemed to spew a trail of Lego’s, dress-up clothes, story books and general mess everywhere they went. Now, most of their clutter is contained to their rooms, and they actually help clean the rest of the house, when they are here.

So in the 15 minutes I had before the guys arrived, I picked up the newspapers that have accumulated, threw the pile of shoes and assorted junk in the front hall into the closet, and lit a candle. If you can’t clean, at least make it smell good is my philosophy.

Besides my kids getting older (and taking vacations without me) the other thing that’s changed is my attitude. Scot and I see our home as a place where we can welcome people, where we can engage in the spiritual practice of hospitality–which does not require a perfect house but does require a willing heart. We see this house as God’s, and ourselves as stewards of it.  What once would have infuritated me now brings me joy, because it feels like a team effort to demonstrate the love of God. It’s moved from a “have to” to a “get to,” from obligation to privilege.