We never expected that I would suffer a miscarriage while our friends Lee and Charlie were staying with us, but that is exactly what happened. I have learned lots from having to continue welcoming them in our home, while going through the turbulence of grieving. As it turns out this was the most profound experience of community that I've ever had.
I stayed in bed in my pyjamas for days. Then I sat watching
Cranford and quietly worked on some sewing projects for days. I didn't really interact with anyone except Aaron. But when I emerged from bed in the evenings Lee and Charlie would have made dinner for Aaron and I, it would be on the table and all I had to do was sit and eat. They put flowers on the table for me. A wonderful friend from our community group brought round food and transported me in the car wherever I needed to go. Another friend brought round a full cooked roast dinner for us one saturday night. Aaron gave up his free time to look after me. Mostly I just wanted to go to Starbucks (testing his loyalty to his own workplace, Costa!) in the early evenings to see the Christmas lights and spend a bit of time in the real world, surrounded by 'normal life'. Aaron is my closest community.
Normally I would have retreated into isolation at this time, I'm a guarded person by choice, but because of being married and surrounded by people this wasn't an option! But I learned that people can be very comforting in desperate situations. I found temporary relief from grieving in our dinner times with Lee and Charlie. We talked about light-hearted things, and they made me laugh. Our home continued to run itself, depsite my inability to do anything at all. I noticed real advantages because we had opened our lives and home to others. Even when I was lying in bed clouded with despair, I could hear people coming and going. Aaron'sdiscipleship group, or a friend dropping off food, or Aaron's friend Sam coming round to pray with him. This gave me great comfort.
As a result of my experience I feel strongly how wrong it is that we have been encouraged to guard our privacy, to protect our own space, to get our 'me time', and to be self-sufficient (obviously these things need to be handled with wisdom, and there
are times for privacy and being alone). This means that we suffer more when we are in need because people won't be there, they might not even know that we are struggling. In addition, when people most need us, we probably won't know how to be there for them. It's awkward to see someone in a state of suffering when you have always had this nice, civilised, distant relationship.
I know that the early church is always used as an idyllic model of community, but I really have glimpsed the possibilities of it in my recent experience. Togetherness is possible, even in our times.
Acts 4:32 "Now the full number of those who believed were of one heart and
soul, and no one said that any of the things that belonged to him was his
own, but they had everything in common." (ESV)
I think we need to consider what this looks like for us as women today. The only way of getting a real community is when we walk together in all seasons of life, cry together, praise together. There seems to be this idea that when life is difficult you should retreat from others, protect yourself, and keep up appearances. Then all we have is fake smiles on a Sunday.
Something to think about...
How can you make your life more community focused?
Are you prepared to open up your life and home? Ask God to help you to be more open if you struggle with guardedness.
The Open Home saga continues...x