I am re-learning community in new ways here in Colorado. I’m intersecting with people I remember were around when I had my babies and when we didn’t have a car. I’m gathering around a fire pit with coffee and wine with friends who know our story, even the crappy parts of it. And I’m emergency-texting prayer requests and “what do you want from starbucks?” on those days when human interaction beats screen-time a million to one. I’ve tasted holy vulnerability under a mountain and over a sushi lunch on a normal Tuesday, talked about things that really matter while circuit training in a gym, and listened to a first-reading of a screenplay written by friends that I’m sure I’ll be watching in theaters before too long.
And I’ve been reminded of the goodness of having someone else’s back, of being in someone else’s corner. And I’m tasting the transformative power of knowing that the same goes for me, too. Because whether we like to admit it or not, we. need. people. We need fans in our stands— those who believe we can rise above whatever we’ve done or whatever was done to us, and maybe both.
And we can wait around for community to happen to us, and then complain when it might not, or we can pursue it and fight for it like our lives depend on it.
Because they do.
Enjoy this true story from a highschool football team which my precious new friend, Ela, showed me recently. It’s a story of the power of community, a story that reminds me to show up in other people’s stands. (Subscribers may need to click through to the site to view video.)
On a scale of 1 – 10, how connected to true community do you feel right now?