On Living in Community

Upon coming back from France (and my wife Sarah’s back surgery) in the middle of June, we were entering into an entirely new reality. Sarah would spend the summer in recovery. For the first few weeks, she could barely move. She was drugged. Constantly. The pain was intense. 

Morphine.

Vicodin.

Oxycodone.

Tylenol.

Ibuprofen. 

Throughout the coarse of the summer, I had little idea how much our lives would revolve around the recovery. The promise was healing. Immediate improvement. The reality was slower. More painful and left our house in more disarray than we’d hoped for. 

There was another story unfolding as well. We were entering in to a new season of community.

Intentional,

in your face,

in our house,

community. 

The mills family moved in within two weeks of us coming home. Betsy and Corey, Lily and Jonathan.

One house. 

Five bedrooms. 

2,000 square feet.

Eight people. 

It’s been a crazy journey. There’s a sharing of chores (Sarah and I have the bad backs, so it sometimes falls more on the Mills). There’s been a sharing of food. Breaking of bread. And the intentionality that it’s not just us, it’s US.

The intermingling of the kids has been, at times, really hard, and yet they all have new playmates available which brings a lot of joy. 

There has been the confrontation of personalities. Parenting styles. Spiritual practices (or the lack there of, *raising hand in the air*). 

We’ve also shared the struggles of life together. Money. Schedules. Burdens. Wrapping our arms around Sarah to make sure she is healing, not just doing things beyond where her healing is at. 

We’re still in the journey. Trying to make sense of it all. 

“And they devoted themselves to the disciples teaching, breaking bread together when ever possible.” 

Communing. In Communion. In Community and union with one another. “Being of one mind.” Living in knowledge and understanding that despite our greatest efforts to fend for ourselves, God has a bigger picture in mind for his church. A picture that is worth the time, the effort, the confrontation, the forgiveness, the intentionality to choose to love one another in the midst of our journeys and support each other along the way. 

We have no idea how long this experiment in community will last. Another week. Another month. Maybe longer. What we do know is that the earliest followers of Jesus, after they got it. After they really got it, they held things in common. They separated themselves from their “things” and gave to each as any had need. They took care of each other. They were fillers of the gaps. They became provision at the point of need to one another. 

It’s what we’re called to do.

Not live in community.

But be community.