It was a series of letters between a young mother of 3 and an older experienced mother who had four kids in middle and high school. Chapters talked about laundry and beauty, chaos and joy. It was honest. It was fresh air. Honestsly I don't remember the specifics that well. But I remember the relationship. How the women had met at a conference and how the younger woman was ambitious and overwhelmed. The older woman offered her a retreat in her home and the two decided to write a book together.
At the time, I very much related to the young mother. Trying to do it all. Trying to be a good mom. Wondering if I was doing anything right. I was in awe of the older mom. How comfortable she was in her motherhood and in her place in the world. She was full of grace and extra space that she could offer those around her, like the young frantic mother.
In motherhood groups there's often discussion of raising children in a "village," where kids can run freely between neighbors homes and many adults bear the load of raising them well. I think this is a lovely image, it doesn't fully convey the reality of living in a village or right knit community. Community is built on reciprocity. Giving and receiving. Sharing. Overstepping boundaries and asking forgiveness. I grew up in a big family, lots of people are around yes, but it is messy and there's a lot of forgiveness involved and a high expectation that you will contribute, do your part. Whatever that part might be.
As I've moved past desperate, and have stated relating more and more with the older mom, I've had a deep desire to be part a village for other people. But I've found something surprising. Many people push help away. It's a hard kind of rejection. To work hard to make space and live generously to meet a world that would rather relate in transaction -- here's a simple example:
It's easier and more convenient to pay doordash -- than to have people from church drop off home cooked meals. I get it. Door dash isn't that expensive. You can get anything you want. Exactly on the schedule you want. And you don't have to expend the energy to make small talk with the driver. They just leave the food and disappear. Church ladies bring the wrong thing at the wrong time and really it's more of a hassle than helpful gesture.
You can pay for child care, house cleaning, meals to be prepped and best of all you can dictate the terms for these services. You are paying someone. It is their job. Then like a good shopper, you can look for a person who has good reviews and provides good values.
But then, how can we show up as the church to each other? The very heart of Christian faith is to live as family. To love each other as Christ has loved us. To bear with each other in patience and forgiveness. To find unity with each other.
I'm still busy with my own tribe but in the moments I'm able to look beyond my walls to live out my call in faith,
I struggle.
What does it look like to show up in a world that is self sufficient?
Therapy replaces small group Bible studies.
Paid services replace acts of service.
Bureaucracy creates boundaries to volunteerism.
And the church struggles.
My heart laments. Self sufficiency creates isolation and loneliness. The church has such a potent remedy for the afflictions of modern life -- deep connection, meaning and purpose -- cultivated for centuries. And yet so many people choose self-sufficiency and convenience.
Is there a way to show up as a village, as the body of Christ, in this modern world?
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