Just being neighborly.

Nearly 15 years ago we moved into the 9th house on the left on a street filled with older homes.  We chose the house because it had character, lots of great woodwork, and we could afford it.  It felt kind of risky for two "kids" who had grown up in sub-divisions, living on a street that felt really close to downtown (like that's a bad thing?).  We were naive enough to think we were just moving onto a street of houses.  When in reality we moved into a neighborhood -- a place where everyone either has a front porch or comes to sit on yours.  Where people know your names, your kids names, and even help you chase down the dog when it gets lose.  Our neighbors have provided meals, shelter, childcare, invited us to weddings, graduations, and funerals.  They've helped us paint the house and fill a dumpster during a remodel.

Our next-door neighbors to the North have changed a couple of times, but our neighbors to the South were here before we got here and have proven to be exactly the family you hope lives next door when you move to a new city, onto a new block, into a new house.   We have shared a lot over the years -- the side yard, meals, books, cleaning ladies, and outdoor chores.  We've celebrated and laughed together just as much as we've worried and mourned (we've got 6 kids between us, plenty of opportunity for all of that).  When we remodeled our bathroom years ago -- Craig & Nancy let us shower at their place (the joy of an older home with 1 bathroom) for 13 WEEKS - what?  But in and around all the teasing and story telling, we have known we are loved by these people.  From very early on, we knew we could ask them for just about anything and if they could, they would. 

Kelly and I have been going to church ALL of our lives.  We both grew up in the Church and have worked on a Church staff our entire married life, and have met and become friends with some amazing people over the years.  But it was this neighborhood, these neighbors, who really and finally taught me what it meant to belong somewhere.  To have people who see you at your best and worst -- and let's face it, our neighbors see our yards when we've just been too busy, they hear us yelling at our kids in the early summer days when all the windows are open, and they've watched the ways we move in and out of our lives.  And for us they have still wanted to know how we're doing, the latest with the kids, and to remind us we're a part of something bigger than just the 5 of us.

Yesterday, it was a snowy Sunday here in the Midwest, and as I left for Church Craig & Nancy were in the hot tub, drinking coffee (a pre-Church ritual I think I'd like to try!) and so we had a couple minutes to catch up.  And in those 180 seconds (literally 3 minutes) I was reminded again what it means to be connected.  To not just live in a house on a street -- but to belong to a community.  They've been praying for us and paying attention to my progress AT THE VERY SAME TIME as they are carrying their own burdens and concerns.  I was filled with gratitude all over again -- for our neighbors yes, but for the chance I have to be more than just neighborly...in the future.

And speaking of the future -- I'm headed back to work.  I had such a great recovery week last week.  I'm feeling stronger all the time and so, I'm going to do some work there and some here and ease back into the rhythm that is "work".  It's funny, my recovery has gone exactly the way the Doc said it would (even though I was convinced I could do it in half the time!!), so much for what I know!!

I hope you have neighbors like ours.  But trust me, we've lived in enough places to know this doesn't always happen.  But here's what I know CAN happen every time -- we can be those neighbors to others.  All we have to do is decide.

Still more than grateful,
Suze