I sat on our back porch last night trying to figure out how to write a blog post as if it was the first time I’d ever done so. Written words don’t come easily these days. Plenty is happening in the world around us, but I don’t often write about newsworthy or current events. I presently live in a bubble where I referee, feed, and entertain a teen, a tween, and an 8-year-old. So I feel constantly distracted and in over my head participating in thoughtful discourse about our culture. I’ve said out loud several times recently, “I’m not sure what my calling is. But if it’s to be a writer, I don’t think I can be faithful to it anymore. I don’t have the words or the wisdom or the energy for these times.”
A sort of paralysis sets in when we’re out of rhythm and out of community for too long. When we read the news and look at social media and keep mostly to ourselves and our fears, something is lost. The world seems big and cold. We forget who we are and whose we are. Our thoughts turn inward instead of outward or upward. Anxiety wins. Despair sits in. We forget how to be or believe anything more than what we can see directly in front of our faces.
Last weekend we had a porch visit with friends and a restaurant patio dinner with another couple all in the same day. It was the most normal {adult} social interaction I’ve had in a long time. And my husband said that evening, “You’re so much more like yourself when you’ve been around people.”
I hate when he has these epiphanies. But he’s right, and it’s true. We’re more ourselves not when we’re by ourselves, but when we’re in community. When left to our own thoughts and imaginations, our fears feel heavier and our doubts run deeper. We start to believe the lies we tell ourselves by day and the ones Satan whispers to us in the night.
But when we join other people in conversation and communion {and laughter} in the flesh, our fears and doubts and hopes and dreams are met with dialogue and discussion. We remember we can be more than who we are in our own head and heart. We start to believe again that change is possible. Our burdens grow lighter and hope resurfaces when we realize we aren’t as alone in the world as we imagined. Surely we are “fearfully and wonderfully” designed to both need and feed each other in this way.
Of course we don’t have to physically be with other people to be connected. We have phones and computers, FaceTimes and Zooms. But I think conversation is arguably richer when we share physical space. And as we come out of a season of social isolation and re-enter an unstable world, it feels more important than ever to make the most of any opportunity we have for connection.
A few weeks ago I was scrolling LinkedIn when I saw a graphic pop up with the subject, “Empathy Matters.” In the graphic, David McLean, Director of People and Organizational Development at Lambton College, gives some suggestions for better, more empathetic questions to ask instead of the typical “How are you?”
Here are a few:
• “What made you smile today?”
• “What would you like to be different tomorrow?”
• “What have you been reading/watching/listening to lately?”
• “What is something interesting that happened today?”
• “What has been hardest for you lately?”
• “What are you most excited for this week?”
I like how these questions are open-ended. They give room for more depth and discussion than a simple “How are you? — Oh, doing fine” type of dialogue. These questions force the one asking them to actually listen. And I need these sort of practical tools to become a better listener in my own home and in the wider world around me.
“Being heard is so close to being loved that, for the average person, they are almost indistinguishable.”
David W. Augsburger
It’s easy to feel uncertainty and despair about our world in this season of pandemics, protests, and civil unrest. I worry about parenting three daughters through a long summer, let alone through the conversations and challenges facing our families and communities in the days ahead.
When I don’t know what to do, which books to read first, what to write about, or how to make a difference in the world, I have to reconnect with people and re-read this verse tucked away in the Old Testament:
“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.” Zechariah 4:10
Then I take a deep breath and remember smallness is never wasted in the kingdom of God. One in-person dinner with a friend can recenter us. One meaningful phone call can re-energize us. One good question can make a difference. One book can change us. One back porch conversation, one small act of kindness, one attempt to understand or get to know someone better can be a step toward connection, healing, and wholeness. Sometimes just reading one chapter of Ramona Quimby, Age 8 to my high-energy 2nd Grader can make a whole day better.
Henri Nouwen, who spoke often on healing and wholeness, said:
“We are not called to save the world, solve all problems, and help all people. But we each have our own unique call, in our families, in our work, in our world. We have to keep asking God to help us see clearly what our call is and to give us the strength to live out that call with trust. Then we will discover that our faithfulness to a small task is the most healing response to the illnesses of our time.”
I think most all of us want to help heal the illnesses of our time. Sometimes the world shuts down and we lose our way; other times we feel overwhelmed and just don’t know where to start. May the Lord give us fresh strength to live out our callings and the sight to better see the opportunities—no matter how small—to be listeners, helpers, and healers.
Maybe we can start with just a porch and some people, no platforms or podiums required.
Excellent post Hollie. And a VERY good reminder to those of us who like to run and hide!