The recent events of watching a leader in the faith community be murdered, stabbings and school shootings have made me deeply aware of what I value. 

It’s shifted how I think about my work, my time, and especially how sacred my time is with my children. 

When you see life stripped away from someone else, you wake up in a new way.

Displaced and Searching for Home

Through that lens, I’ve been thinking a lot about our reality.  

A sweet summer ended and we were all in on preparing for school to start. I’ve still been walking through health struggles with my crazy eyes. Ugh!

On top of that, we had to pack up (for the second time in six months) and move my family out of our house for another bathroom remediation to get rid of mold! 

This is our second shower that had been installed improperly when the home was built, and while we were at it, the carpet was being ripped out and replaced with new flooring.

That meant that from the very first day of school, our family of six hasn’t spent a single night at home. 

Two weeks turned into three of living away. 

And honestly? Parts of me feel displaced. 

Parts of me feel like life is spiraling a bit, like this journey toward a healthy home is a losing game.

Rediscovering the Gift of Community

But here’s the gift: we’ve been living at my sister’s house, with her husband and their four kids. 

And in that space, I’ve been reminded of the gift of community.

Our family dynamic is kind of unusual. 

We work together, live life together in almost every area, and now for this season, we’ve literally lived under the same roof!

That level of closeness requires hard conversations, but the reward is so much greater. 

We’ve shared meals, laundry, bedtimes…everything. 

It’s made me think about communal living, something that feels foreign in American culture but is so common in other parts of the world. Imagine the financial burdens lifted if families shared life like this!

The Cost of Isolation

And yet, I think the reason it’s not common here is because we live so isolated. 

Everything about our culture pushes us toward doing life alone. 

This season has reminded me of what I really want: to live a life in community. 

No, I’m not going to move in with my sister permanently or sell our home. (I mean, I have considered it!) 

But I don’t want to lose sight of the gift of people: the gift of conversation, connection, and presence.

A Passion to Keep People First

The vision I carry for my life is to stay in community, to live in a way that keeps people a priority. 

There have been seasons in the past where I didn’t always live that way, but being in a needy state has taught me something new about the gift of humanity, friendships, and relationships. 

When the world feels heavy or hard, it’s relationships that remind me of the gift of life itself.

A big part of why I feel this so strongly right now is because a huge distraction has been removed. 

Without my own home to keep up, I’ve been free to experience the beauty of shared responsibility. 

Sharing groceries, running a household together, doing puzzles with neighbors, family dinners, long conversations that never would have happened in the normal rhythm—it’s opened up more space and time for people.

Stripping Away the Distractions

I don’t want to go back to the normalized rhythm of isolation. 

Even though I’ve always had a strong community, this season has lit a new fire in me to fight against isolation and cling to the gift of people. 

Because the truth is, you don’t fully realize the gift of people until you’re in a place of really needing them.

And while I would never wish this season on anyone (the displacement, the financial burden, the endless remediation) there’s been another gift in the middle of it. 

A desperation for the Lord.

I’ve had to rely on Him in ways I haven’t had to in a long time, and though I hate everything about mold remediation, I can see the story in the sorrow and the purpose in the pain.

Where I am today is both weary and grateful. Grieving what’s been hard and rejoicing in what’s been given. 

So, why am I telling you this? 

Because, once again, I have another chapter of my story that is hard but is pointing me back to a God who loves me and I want the same for you. You may be in a valley that is different from ours but you need the reminder that our low points aren’t just unfortunate accidents that pop up in our story, they HAVE to be purposeful. 

So, this is the call to fight to step outside of the pain to see the purpose. Remind yourself that your story is designed and dictated by a God who loves you… even if it’s not the story you would choose. He hasn’t forgotten us.