digging in.

it is so easy to slowly isolate oneself in this world. I have realized this over the summer, on a more personal level than ever before. sometimes, over the past few months, things have felt so difficult that I physically felt like I could not "enter" into life. There seemed to so many areas of my life where I could get lost. it was/has been overwhelming.

trying to have a baby (unsuccessfully) can be a lonely experience. I firmly believe that we were meant to live in community, to bear one another's burdens, to live and love where sorrows and joy mingle. to weep with those who weep. but this is not easy.

it's not easy because if we really do this, we soon realize that sometimes the mystery of life is overwhelming. we have no idea what to say or how to love, so we retreat. we isolate. I have felt the awkwardness of this deeply- on both ends. I have avoided situations where moms congregate and talk about their kids- and likewise, I have been avoided because someone feels that there joy, their new baby, their news of being pregnant- will only cause me pain. and to be honest, sometimes it is painful- but I do not think it is right to avoid that pain.

so I am trying to digg in. I would rather feel the pain of community, than walk this alone. I believe Jesus shows up where life is and people gather.

yesterday, I was feeling the temptation of isolation. It had been coming on for a few days, each day feeling more difficult- and thankfully God gave me some strength to choose otherwise. I picked up the phone, called a handful of people, and said, come over. eat with us.

It was late in the afternoon. I was full of insecurities. I thought, God, I am choosing to engage in this world today, and it will crush me if I have to eat alone tonite. So I, with a wee bit of faith, went to the grocery and bought food. I wavered over how much. I went for extra.

Last nite, 8 people sat around our table and ate tacos. we talked about sharks and boats. there were kids there. they were full of youth, all bright eyed and kind. it was simple. no big conversations, just fellowship of the mundane. and it felt good.

at the end of the evening, there was no food left. and I was full. full from food. full from the friends in our home. thankful that I had felt compelled to engage in the supernatural. to trust God to help me. to bring people into my home. a home full of hope and pain.