pride

I've been thinking a lot about pride these days.
It's such a sneaky beast: pride.
It effects the way we interact with people and it effects the very stride we carry throughout the day. And it happens to be rolling through my brain in song-form today. The music group "The Avett Brothers" have a lyric that says, "I wanna have pride like my mother has. Not like the kind in the bible that turns you bad," and another musician, Thad Cockrell says "Pride won't get us where we're going."

Pride is worth singing about and it's worth thinking about in the middle of our interactions.

Sometimes Living Acts stirs up a tension between the pride the human side of me innately wants and the humility God is trying to grow in me. If I'm being truly honest, any and all relationships have the tendency to do that from time to time but it's been particularly prevalent in my mind in this house. Maybe it's because I know that the house I live in is part of a broader community and comes along with more accountability than a person might have in another living situation. Maybe it's because I know there is a certain degree of "public-ness" that comes with this experience.

We're being watched. It's something each one of us signed up for by being part of Living Acts. And we really do want to make people proud. We want people to bring us up in conversation when talking to others about what the church is doing and we want our mothers to smile as they explain to the relatives on Christmas day that we're living "in community". And we want people to leave our house feeling as though we've really met their needs in some way. We want to make people proud and we want to make ourselves proud.
pride.

Similarly, I don't want to be called out when I leave my laundry in the laundry room for a whole week or when I've become obnoxious in asking "how the job-hunt is going?". I want to go about believing that I'm never frustrating and that I make people feel fabulously inspired all of the time. I want to believe that I'm a capable adult with all my stuff sorted out.

Pride. It's a sneaky little thing that makes me slow to admit when I need to move my laundry and quick to fear that I'm failing someone.

It feels exhausting sometimes but the simple fact is, as Christians, we really are called to a great amount of good. We are called to be patient and fair and productive and to excel in all we do for others. And we're called to be held accountable to these standards by the other believers around us. It's tough.

But here's the redemptive part.
I am a sinner.
You are a sinner.
I will mess up.
You will mess up.

I wrote in my journal yesterday as I reflected on Patrick's sermon:
"When I was a kid, i was frightened by any suggestion or reminder that I 'might' be sinning. ...'might?' There is no might. Yes, I am sinning. Of course I am. But there is freedom and authenticity in coming to God with my sin as a confessed sinner and not a sinner in denial. I'm not afraid of it anymore because it's not mine to solve. It's mine to bring to He who will solve or resolve it."


I sin.
the sooner I can humble myself and accept that truth, the sooner I can freely accept the humility that will make me an eager student of all God's lessons.

pride won't get us where we're going

Living Acts: new beginnings!

Wow everyone.
I don't even know where to begin.

My house-mates are great.

Yesterday we were all settled into the coziness of the living room in front of the television as though it was a fireplace. The television is a pretty poor-quality piece of equipment so it gets neglected often, but every now and then it has a bit of a fireplace effect, and we all gather 'round it to warm ourselves and fall deeper and deeper into the comfort of a living room.

However, it was my dish night. So, I interrupted our group entertainment and hermit-ed myself away in the kitchen.

i barely had time to fill the sink with hot sudz before I realized that the tv was off and both of the boys were sitting at the kitchen table. Zack dried the dishes as I washed them and Kevin organized the pile of dishes into something less terrifying. But more importantly, they laughed and joked.

My fellas joined me in the kitchen on my dish night, solely to keep me company.

Now, there are many things that we do as Living Acts members. We try new ways of praying, we invite new folks into our homes, we seek Jesus in the clutter of our week...and we support one another. I think the latter is one of the most beautiful things about an intentional community. We rally.
When I write a new banjo song, there are always ears to hear it.
When I want to escape the complexity of loving others in a quick jog in the graveyard, there are feet to join me.
When I want to laugh, there are jokes being told.
When I want to seek God, there are others seeking too.

This house has a warmth no fire or television can cast off.

new things

Wow, 5 months goes by fast! The past few weeks have been full of reminders that this beginning chapter is drawing to an end. Rachel and Zack have been packing up their things and moving what they can into the house they've purchased just at the top of the hill. Rachel and I spent the majority of Friday sifting through kitchen gadgets to decide what belonged tothe house and what didn't.
There's nothing like moving to remind one how inconvenient it is to own things. I don't know how long it will last, but I have a new-found goal to own as few things as possible for as long as possible!
Remind me that if you see me out shopping.

The other reminder of transition was the return of our soon-to-be house-mate Zach Hazlett! he just returned from Africa 2 weeks ago, but yesterday was the first that I saw of him. We brought him over here to the house to show him his different bedroom options. We decided he's pretty much too tall for the attic, so as the shortest person in the house, I get to keep my beloved attic bedroom.

I have to admit...it will be strange and different to have Annie gone from the room I've enjoyed sharing with her. Not to mention it will be strange having her gone from my weekly schedule. I'm a little anxious about it, but I know that God knows what He's doing here.

Sometimes I wonder if this will feel more like an actual intentional community to Keven once it's not so saturated with Yoder family members. In fact, I'm actually pretty excited about our little team of three, and how it may wake things up a bit for comfort levels and personalities to be a bit more...unknown. Sometimes you forget to be a team when you're already a family I suppose.

Pray for us as we transition. I think this year ahead will be an exciting one.

games

The weather has been a crazy bi-polar thing these days. The air is so thick with humidity that I feel like I could make a snow-angel in its thickness. The blues lose their brilliance in the sky and a muddy, grayish haze takes over.
There was, however a brief spell this past week/weekend when the thick haze slipped down from its lofty perch and freed this country-side to breath a little more easily. On one such evening, we propped up some lawn chairs across the parking lot to watch Norlan and company play bad-mitten. Some of us propped our feet up to watch while others of us picked a side of the net and dove into the multi-birdied game. Genesis joined in for a swat or two and then continued a progressive march around the net, turning the racket upside-down so that the handle could serve as her imaginary microphone. A little girl slightly younger than her followed with the racket held at an angle like a little guitar.
The game was just the right amount of "serious." It began with a completely un-tallied exchange: multiple birdies bounced from side to side then plunged into the grass at our feet. One person would lunge after one birdie while another swatted at yet another. You could call it warm-up I suppose.
Once the real game began I came to the un-surprising conclusion that, while I have quite a bit of ambition, I have very little ability when it comes to the game of bad-mitten. Even so, it was a splendid way to enjoy the first cool evening in awhile.

The coolness lasted the next few evenings: just long enough to create the perfect setting for Millersburg's fireworks.

I don't mean to make anyone jealous...but I had the perfect spot to watch the fireworks from. It's actually a location that's become quite a little haven for me. The middle-level kitchen window opens right up to the gentle-y sloping roof above the back porch where I can sit for long spells watching the sun set over the church roof or, in this case, watch bursts of color explode over Millersburg with delayed cracks and bangs.

I may just make a tradition out of it: rooftop fireworks

light

I have to admit, it's been hard to blog lately. The closer we get as a little community, the more personal our revelations and experiences of growth become...and it's hard to know how to blog about things so personal.

We've been up to alot since my last post. We've been communicating about the possibility of a community garden; we created a side-walk chalk display to welcome the elementary students into summer vacation; we've continued to have art nights, electric-free nights, and worship nights together as well.

Add to that list the Taize service that Annie and Christine put together...

I find myself so speechless when it comes to reflecting on a service like the Taize service Annie and Christine put together. In a blog not too long ago I talked about the importance of conversation...well...the Taize service brings to surface the importance of its absence. There's something hauntingly effective about stripping fellowship of the small-talk and warm greetings that usually bless it, and simply sitting with a body of people to experience something as a group, and yet not necessarily to reflect on it as a group. (Isn't it just like Christ to show up in totally opposite sorts of experiences?) I've most definitely seen Christ through conversation but for too often I forget to meet him in the wonderings of my own internal thoughts or the words others have written in song years ago.

As we sang and listened about Christ as light...
I watched the colors of the stained glass window change as the light outside changed with what i guessed was the passing of clouds over the sun. The light out there was kinetic with life: moving and swelling in its intensity. The window was merely a vessel with which the living light could color the world.
There's an analogy in there I think...though unrefined.
If I could be a stained glass window pointing to the life in Christ's light, I think that I could name that my greatest achievement in this life so far.

Conversation conversation!

I love walking into the kitchen and seeing one of my housemates perched on the counter with a bowl of cereal or propped against the table drying a dish. I love it even more when I can tell there's a thought brewing inside like some coffee pot for me to dive into and pour myself a hot cup.

Conversation! Is there anything so... useful? ...or effective?

This is how many of our more important or meaningful conversations have started: moseying into the kitchen and stumbling upon someone's percolating thoughts. It's one of my favorite things about living with people: different people.
Yes, we've all come from this area: grown up together, attended the same church and yes three of us have even grown up in the same household and have the same gene pool swimming around in the codes of our characters. Even so, there are a thousand tiny ways we are different and a thousand big ways too. Zack for instance has a strong discipline that inspires all kinds of task-mastering in the house. Just yesterday I came home to realize that the dining room table I'd meant to glance over and tidy had been totally cleaned and with it the floors, the counter, and the living room clutter. This is one of the thousand tiny ways Zack and I are different.
To offer another example, Annie and I are active socialize-ers. We almost never turn down an invitation to enjoy a late night drive to visit a friend or even simply to enjoy each others' company. Just the other night we heard a rumor there might be a late-night meteor shower so we ignored the late hour, hopped in the car and headed to the nearest all-night gas station we could think of to buy ourselves some cheap coffee for the star-show. We completely forgot to look at the sky but we enjoyed each others' late-night company and over-sugared coffee beverages until night had become early morning. Similarly, Kevin overheard of an opportunity to see a movie in New York City, and on a whim he joined a group of movie-goers in their day-long drive to see the 2 and a half hour movie. This is one of the thousands of tiny ways the Millers of our house are unlike us.

These differences became obvious even before we spent any time together and now they surely have us all thinking, "How much harder would this be if we hadn't come from such similar places? If we feel so obviously different with each other...how much more so will a future collection of people feel?"

We haven't figured it all out, but one of the true-est things I can say at this point is this: one of the most basically necessary skills for meeting with and learning from people of difference in a way that shares in growth...is conversation. We have all embraced the need for conversation and let me tell you...it is the only way to go about community. What blessings we've found in it.

service

WEll, we've had two intentional "electricity-free" nights, and one thunder-storm induced one. The whole house has really been enjoying these nights and the fellowship time that happens naturally when there are only a few sources of light in a three story house. After a while the little glowing cluster of candles in the middle of us feels more like a campfire than a supplement for electric lights.

Yesterday while the evening light was still coming through the window and we could still see eachothers' faces, we brainstormed together about service-project possibilities. We talked over all kinds of ideas, but for this month in particular, there's one kind of bizarre idea that Annie had that stuck out to all of us. I must admit, to those maintaining a very traditional idea of what "service projects" are, it may not fit very comfortably into the category. But perhaps there are some categorical walls to be dismantled here. We know only a few things after all, don't we? We want to be part of this little place called Millersburg: this little collection of people and the streets and sidewalks they build their lives in. We know that. We don't want to be strangers keeping to ourselves. We want to be woven into the town enough so, that the needs of the community start to become known personally... The distance fades.

The service project idea may not fit the traditional idea of "service project," but I think it fits pretty nicely into the idea of becoming present in this town. Our idea is simple: On some Thursday night before summer vacation, we would like to fill the back part of the parking lot where kids wait for their parents after school with games/mazes/pictures etc in sidewalk chalk. We'll have to cooperate with the weather on this, but the idea is to have a parking lot of little activities waiting for the elementary students as they leave school on Friday and wait for their parents to fetch them. If kids catch on and play, we'll join them!

Now, we want to be present in this community in all kinds of ways. I think this could be a really fun way to try to get a foot in the door, so to speak, but we've got our eyes open and our ears to the town around us. We want to be neighbors to the people here. We want to know the community well enough to know their need: to share in and feel their need in fact. We'd love any more ideas about how to do that.

electricity free

Well, tonight is the first House-wide electricity/tech-free evening. I suppose that's not entirely true. Technically Sunday the non-twin Living Acts participants gave it a little trial run while Annie and I were at a wedding shower.
Tonight is the first one I'm attending.
There are two sorts of feelings I have about this. Obviously there's a sort of fascination and pride in realizing that we're trying something so...unorthadox in today's culture. As a kid I used to get so excited during thunder storms when the electricity went out. Even then I was a little, budding extravert and having no electricity meant that no one was allowed to be distracted from the physical company we provided for each other. I loved that. I was always the pesky little sister knocking on my sisters' doors asking them how much longer until they wanted to play.
So of course, there's something really nestalgic and fun about the idea of a tech-free evening with our little living acts family.
But as I said there are other feelings too.
I am still that little extravert and though as a young kid my extraversion showed up in my eagerness to play with my sisters...the social circles have spiraled outward: multiplied. I love my many circles dearly. I love my Living Acts circle; I love my Charlottesville Circle; I love my Bluffton Circle; the list goes on.. Alot of my circles exist in other regions: other states even. Yes yes..this is why I facebook and email and text and....use technology.
And blogging. I love blogging.
But I don't want to be the kind of person who can't escsape the modern world for a day or two.
I want to sit on the roof of the living acts house and not realize time even existing as I sink into a drawing in my sketchbook.

:)

people to wave at

I know not everyone is like this, but I'm the kind of person who really likes to know people. I'm not talking about popularity. I'm talking about something deeper. I'm talking about knowing someone so well that you can tell the difference between their good days and bad days just by looking at them: knowing what a person's not saying when they sigh. That's the kind of knowing I love. Deep knowing.

But being fairly new to Millersburg residency, I've been given the opportunity to experience the younger phases of knowing people. It is the young and tender phase that far proceeds the right to analyze their wordless expressions.

Yesterday Zack and I were running together on the trail at the bottom of the hill. It's a wonderful place to run and generally feels pretty private and out-of-the-way. Every now and then you'll pass a pair of high school young-lings in their school-pride sweaters gossiping in the supposed privacy of the trail or an elderly couple introducing some little pure-bread pup to the great outdoors. Sometimes I wave or nod my head; and other times I let the self-conscious knowledge of what a fashion-less sight I am when running get the best of me, and I give no nod or wave.

This time as we approached a little family cluster of walkers, I jumped full force into the "wave and turn to talk as you run" approach: a method of greeting that is humorous, yes, but hardly effective as far as conversational greetings go. But how could I help myself? This was not just any tiny family cluster of walkers: it was one that I knew.... well...at least on that surface level. I had met these new friends at a local house concert just two days before where I had struck up a good conversation with the father of the family. I called the names of my new friends as I ran past and twisted awkwardly around to answer a question or two about my run before there was too much distance to hear and too much twist in my step to sustain a good run.
Consistent to my talkative nature, I chattered with Zack for a bit about who the family was and how I had met them.
Now...I don't know what these people act like on a good day versus a bad day. I don't know what their troubles or joys are and I don't know what hides in the layers of their wordless expressions when they sigh or laugh.. but I was able to fill about a quarter mile's worth of conversation about these new acquaintances and that felt good.
I know how to reach the depths of what's going on with a person...but it's kind of fun to dedicate some time to what happens between neighbors who've only just met.
It's fun to create new people to wave to.


As always,
God is alive and we've got our eyes out for Him.

catching the swing

I love the slow and steady accumulation of activity that happens in this house around 6 pm. Those who have worked are coming home from their 9-5's and those who haven't are coming home from their errands or more likely, their shenanigans. For a few minutes, we are scattered individuals with separate tasks, but inevitably we find ourselves sort of absent-minded-ly clustering together over some random thing we can share interest in: the new mango juice for instance...
Today, at 6:30 our togetherness became a bit more intentional and we had our first house worship time. We started off with Rob Bell's discussion about Peter's attempt to walk on water but...of course, that's not where the conversation stayed. Conversations in this household take on lives of their own, and before we knew it, we found ourselves talking about how we as Western/American Christians react to the Holy Spirit...or even how we react to the reactions others have to receiving the Holy Spirit. I'm not describing the conversation well...but that's how conversations are I suppose: less vivid as their retold.
Often times conversations about such things can feel "rabbit-hole-ish" or webbed...but somewhere in the midst of our tangents and trailing...there seemed to be something working...living if you will.
Our individual projects are starting up like sloppy little dandelion buds. The transition from "idea" to "action" is always full of funny mixtures of hope and revision. But knowing that such a mix is appropriate makes it feel like real progress. In some ways, this is the part of the big-project journey where we head out a little ways to identify where the hills and valleys are: or where the impasses might be. Its going to be so exciting to watch everyone as we journey along.

Hopefully it will make a good read, too. :)

As always,
God is alive and we've got our eyes out for Him.

day one!

Today was, in my mind, the very first day of this Living Acts adventure, although that's probably untrue for many reasons. Many people have been praying for and working with this adventure long before this day. But the launch weekend felt so wonderfully celebratory and hopeful that I couldn't help but feel like the ribbon was being cut in some grand opening the entire weekend. And this morning; a cool, but sunny Monday morning, felt like the first day of that opening.

I woke with the feeling that the morning just beyond my groggy eyelids was something tangible: a gift I couldn't wait to use. Perhaps you've felt that way too. I'm sure you have. I hope you have. :)

I can tell already that this big adventure...will be full of thousands of smaller spontaneous adventures. For instance, today's included bike rides to Killbuck, crash-courses in ethnic accapella singing, and lots of brainstorming. Let me tell you, brainstorms are exciting kinds of storms. They leave the most constructive rubble...

I anticipate this blog will continue to map out which little dotted lines we follow: which adventures we live out and which brainstorms God blesses with life.

until then, I can't thank you enough...:)



God is alive and I've got my eye out for Him.