It Takes a Village

Published
by
Rebekah
on July 3, 2008
in Community, Dialogue, Family and Partnerships
. 1 Comment

(by Rebekah, not Hillary Clinton)

So, I did a little experiment, and I found out why it takes two people to make a baby. It’s because you need at least two people to raise that kid, while managing the rest of your life! God bless those progressive thinkers who think they can do it alone, because I most certainly need you all, my village.

For those of you who don’t know, I am a single mother of a gorgeous 4-year-old girl named Eden. My pregnancy resulted from a casual relationship that wasn’t worth continuing when posed with the question of becoming more serious.

Luckily, at the same time (i.e. double life), I had been building real, healthy relationships with folks connected to Circle of Hope, and it’s those relationships that have seen Eden and me through. For instance, when I first told my friends at Circle about my pregnancy, they threw a party for me, and solidified their commitment of support. This was exactly the help and acceptance I needed to feel at a time when I was so scared and ashamed. Then, a group of other moms came together and provided me with a patchwork of childcare, so that I could work full-time for two years! For those of you who don’t know, full-time daycare can cost at least $600 to $900 per month. These women saved me money I didn’t have, and, more importantly, provided the peace of mind that Eden was in a safe, nurturing environment. Now, another group of friends rotates to watch Eden, so that I can attend cell group one night per week. I’m also grateful to have my blood-related family close by.

Mind you, I’m one of those people who likes to do life on her own, and not accept help, no matter how much sense it makes. I like to talk through issues with friends, but I like to resolve them myself. When initially discussing my single parenting with my mother, she warned me that one of my biggest obstacles would be that I would have to ask for and receive help. Surely, my mother knows me well, and I am on a growth journey of seeking out and taking extended hands.

All this to say, I wouldn’t necessarily advocate single parenthood, but having many of you as helpers, planners, observable subjects, affirmers, and grace-givers, makes the parenting feel a lot less single. This village we’ve created in Circle of Hope has been essential to Eden’s and my development…and sanity!

Jesus, joy, and time

Published
by
Jeremy Avellino
on June 30, 2008
in Dialogue and Uncategorized
. 1 Comment

I am sharing a story about Jesus, joy, and time. (Five years ago) I am on a surf trip to the Outer Banks with some close friends, and for the first time since I began this “non-productive, non-depleting pursuit” I am connecting to the flow of what a wave is already doing that I am paddling into. This has taken some time to arrive at, and it is lasting no more than 3 or 4 seconds (in linear time), I think, but I am experiencing in a very different way right here and now.

Life is really long, slow, detailed, extended…In the moments before this moment I am calling ‘here,’ I was unbalanced, awkward, feeble, struggling, and tired from all the trying, from all the dig-dig-digging in the water I was doing all day. But now it is all so slow; this extension of moments. And here I am (and there I go, in a way). I won’t forget this.

A lump in the ocean approaches. Can you see what I am seeing?

I have been waiting for this. I see a kinetic mound of Creation rising to meet me out of the vastness of the sea. Three friends are here with me at Kitty Hawk at this late hour on this spring day, and this peak is coming to see me.

How far has it come to meet me here? How shall I respond? I spin my feet under the water, grab my rail and twist around to see the shore, lie on my belly, chin humbly planted to waxy deck. I am paddling as hard as I can, so why I am I moving backwards? As gravity takes over I leap to my feet and stand erect on the plank below, and, then it happens. Here I am, locked in…in trim. I am here. There I go…no, I’m still here. Balance…Harmony…Awareness…Joy. I am present, and every bit of minutia is meaningful. I can hear the hoots and hollers of my friends, but it’s slow, muffled. I can see Chris paddling back out. Yes, there he is, waving madly at me, making noises. What is he yelling about? Seems like he has a good view of what’s happening. This is so slow. What is going on with the sound right now? There is a foam-ball immediately behind me, making all kinds of racket hitting the glassy shallows, so why can’t I hear it? All the hoots are dying out, like white noise.

pit…

pat…

pit-pit……

pit-pat…

Pit-pat-pat……

That’s all I hear, this delicate, still, small, lapping flutter. My board is planing across the growing, banking face of this little wave, and all I can hear is this lapping. I am moving forward but I am still. I am here right now. It is that good. It’s ending now in a way.

I’ve been told that a wave in the ocean is no more than pure energy expressing itself through that particular medium (water). When it breaks it’s just the final expression of what it’s been moving towards from its fetch thousands of miles away. Once initiated wind, it happens relentlessly over the surface of the ocean for weeks on end. Ironically according to Wikipedia, “There is little actual forward motion of individual water particles in a wave, despite the large amount of energy it may carry forward.”

I’m really glad my friends got a picture of the scene:

punk rock happiness

Published
by
Joshua
on June 26, 2008
in Dialogue, Family and Friends Projects
. 1 Comment

Andrea and Kelly are really inspiring to me. I prefer in person, but also through the award-winning blog Punk Rock Mommy. These two friends have a special parking space in my heart. I love that hanging with them, I always know that they are going to listen as much as they are able. They are definitely going to shoot me straight with what they think, even if I don’t want to hear it. The special thing is, I can hear the truth from them because they speak it in love.

The truth for me right now is, I am not going to be able to have too many more of those truth-in-love moments with one of my friends. She’s been living with Inflammatory Breast Cancer for the past year and change, and the experts think that it’s about time her body got a break. I’m soaking her in while I can, though, and I’m grateful to know and love Kelly and the rest of the family.

I’m glad that I wrote down nuggets of wisdom that Andrea has says, often in passing when we get together to pray or eat tacos. Most of them are pretty funny, some just plain old profound. One thing she told me the other day was that she has spent the past year laughing. I’d say not laughing because everything is silly, as a defense mechanism, immaturity, or lack of understanding the gravity of her situation.

We laugh together, because it’s like she says…”happiness doesn’t come from us getting what we want, it comes from God working in us.”

Work on, God.

Reclaim the word hope

Published
by
Jane Clinton
on June 24, 2008
in Community and Dialogue
. 2 Comments

While praying and journaling one day I wondered when I should give up hope on something. But then I stopped and wondered why I would ever give up hope. I believe in a God who can do all things, so my hope should never end. When the Bible talks about hope it often talks about hope in the Lord. (You are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long. — Ps. 25:5 May integrity and uprightness protect me, because my hope is in you. — Ps. 25:21 And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. — Romans 5:2-5)

My hope is in the Lord alone. It’s in the promise of salvation and redemption that I have been given. Hope is something that we can trust will happen because it has been promised us. There are lots of things in the world that I want or desire, but nothing compares to the hope I have of spending eternity with Jesus.

I brought these thoughts to my cell group and we talked about how the word hope is used in different ways. “I hope you have a good day.” “I hope I get a free lunch.” “I hope I pass the test.” But in light of hope in the Lord, these are just whims. We decided that Christians should reclaim the word hope, reserving it for the Great Hope that we have in the Lord. Now when I’m speaking or writing to people I find other ways to express my wishes for them. It’s a small thing, but that discipline reminds me of the great hope that is stronger than anything that I may desire. In Jesus, I have all the hope I need. May you place your hope in the Lord today and everyday.

That’s valid

Published
by
Bryce Hewlett
on June 19, 2008
in Community and Dialogue
. 1 Comment

I love lunch breaks in the park. The spicy sausage with sour kraut I ate today made me think of backyard cookouts in Iowa City. Sour kraut was a family favorite. While fighting through the construction noise, my friend Nate and I talked about youth group games from high school. We chuckled at memories of “Sardines” and “American Eagle”. I mentioned a game we played in Iowa called “Slaughter” and had to qualify that there weren’t any farm animals involved.

It’s times like that when I feel the most alien here in Philadelphia. It doesn’t seem all that weird to me, but I can only imagine what it sounds like to others. In fact, it’s been hard for me to find any use for much of my Midwest upbringing.

While we talked I started to reconnect with those younger days. I got a feeling like, “Wow, maybe what I did back then does have some association to the here and now.” I’ve been getting that feeling more and more in recent months. It’s been quite nice.

All it took to help me connect was a shared experience, a listening ear, and a “that’s valid” posture. Joy makes me want to preach. There was a van driving around City Hall with a megaphone shouting about a cheated carpenter’s union. I thought that picture fit nicely. I’d like to shout some good news about caring. Will you shout with me? Let someone know they’re valid today.

Living Together

Published
by
Tricia Fussaro
on June 16, 2008
in Community, Dialogue and Resources
. 4 Comments

I’ve been thinking about sharing recently. I suppose not entirely unusual for a kindergarten teacher. It’s practically my job to teach people how to share. This week I witnessed an interesting interaction. During free time, four of my students chose to work with our pattern blocks. Blue rhombuses, red trapezoids, yellow hexagons, orange squares, green triangles, each student may take one box to use and be responsible for returning. All four students grabbed their box and headed to the same table where they could work together. Three of those students immediately took their boxes and dumped them all together in the middle of the table. They began to discuss how much they had to work with and what they would create today. Those three also noticed one student still had all his pattern blocks in his box. They discussed the situation with him. “Put yours into the pile too. Look how much we’ve got! If you put yours in we’ll all have even more.” He looked back at the three not quite sure how he felt.

I find that kindergarten children are often very good at teaching me the life lessons I need to be learning. I have heard this invitation from time to time as well. Join in! Together we accomplish more. Take your pick. I’m sure you’ve heard the cry as well, perhaps in different ways throughout your life. Sometimes I’ve learned to jump right in. Other times, just as this little guy is with his pattern blocks, I’m hesitant.

This time the question has been floating around in my mind about living in community. When Adam and I first got married we were introduced to the idea of living together with other folks, sharing a living space, money, food, and responsibility. Sure, I had seen young, single people live together. It made sense to me. But once you were married you lived on your own. That was my idea of the way it went. The idea of families cohabitating sounded overwhelming. I knew lots of families who had trouble getting along and living together. Adding more people into the equation seemed like asking for trouble. Over the next few years I watched folks who were doing it. I decided to get my feet wet. We invited some single folks to live with us for a period, try it out for a bit.

Now our housemates have moved out. You know what? I miss them. I have loved living with people. It’s been a wonderful blessing. In the meantime, we’ve met this wonderful couple. They have two wonderful, beautiful little girls we adore. Over the last year their housing situation has been transitional. Adam and I have also been thinking about what is next for us. We’re just ready to look for a house and move. We found this wonderful house we love… With a yard! Imagine such a thing. It has grass. I can plant in the ground! This house is big. We’re talking six bedrooms. And it’s only the two of us. We share one bedroom. It’s big enough to share.

So, we asked them to move into this house with us. Live together. Share money, food, responsibility, and care for one another. They agreed. I am so excited, and SO scared. I know this is going to be hard. I haven’t lived with kids since I was one. And we don’t all know each other nearly as well as we knew the other folks we asked to lived with us. So it will be hard. All the best things I’ve ever done have been hard. I trust this will be no different. So I’m throwing myself in.

He threw his into the pile as well. The pattern blocks. He thought for a minute or two and saw all there was to be gained. The abundance of pattern blocks and fun and all the possibilities of what they could do together with all they had collectively. How about you? Where can you join in with what you have to add?

Pilgrimage

Published
by
Rod White
on June 12, 2008
in Community, Dialogue and Planning
. 1 Comment

It’s been about a month now, that I have been on sabbatical. Thanks again for sending me. The long sabbath feels good. I’m resting, I’m healthier, and I’ve learned and loved a lot. The long sabbath is a good thing that should make me better able to return to what God has given me to do — it is hard to know what to do if one doesn’t do, too.

Now Gwen and I are about ready to take off on our month-long pilgrimage to commune with the missionary monks of the 4th-9th centuries, along with some other striking Christian examples from the past and present, in Ireland and the United Kingdom.

The other day I was going over the itinerary I had planned for us, cleaning up the final details, and I discovered that the room I thought I had booked in Winchester (the beginning of the famous road to Canterbury) was actually about a hundred miles away in Aylesford! Hmmm. I began to wonder how many other connections had been missed!

The mistake was easy to correct. I got a further room in Winchester and asked the brethren in Aylesford to let me come for one night, not two. As it turns out, unbeknownst to me (they say things like that over there, I’m already beginning to talk like Reepicheep), the Aylesford Priory, where I had booked the mistaken room, is actually a traditional stopping place for pilgrims on the way from Winchester to Canterbury. And that is just what I intend to be!

I suppose the trip just may go that way. I can’t control things too well. I don’t know everything. I can’t do everything right. And the destination is still better than I expected. It is always like this: “In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps” (Proverbs 16:9). Of course, I don’t think I am a robot waiting for God to activate me by remote control! But I do think I explore far too little of how God determines the steps of a person who isn’t quite sure where the journey is going to end up. I need to trust God first and ask questions later. I want to know more about how to walk by faith, not just by sight. That’s pilgrimage and that’s life.

I’ll tell you about things via my MySpace blog from here and there. I hope you’ll look in from time to time. But we’ll probably be just as connected if we are both on our journeys, listening and looking for God, seeing what the Lord has next and receiving it, expected or not — even suffering or not, with hope.

following Jesus instead of circumstances

Published
by
Weegie Kealey
on June 9, 2008
in Community and Dialogue
. 1 Comment

It’s hard not to react circumstantially. Each day is composed of many ups and downs, and I believe that part of knowing Jesus is to not be affected by the crises. A typical day for me can start with a cup of coffee, sitting and reading a new book, and feeling like I have a good start. But then my new neighbors down the block give me the evil eye, and I’m already pissed off. And it’s only 11am. And then I remember I don’t have a job. Ups and Downs.

So on one of those up and down days, I was reading a devotional that talked about the “delight of despair.” At the time, that sounded like a pretty discouraging idea. I really hated it. I hated it because when I think about despair, there aren’t any positives associated with it. But I think the main idea is always being able to fall back on Jesus. I can be down, but I’m never out.

I dislike the term “safety net,” but can appreciate the concept. It makes me think of the circus. Everyday life is much like walking a tightrope. I feel like one mistake or change can throw off the whole day. Or throw off our whole goal of following Jesus. It only takes one second to damage a relationship through a careless word. Despite these mistakes, knowing that there is something to fall back on is much more comforting than thinking about just falling, and thinking about failure. I know that on a small level, failure is a daily occurrence. It’s easy for me to be down on myself, but by trying to follow Jesus and truly letting him into my heart, I’m getting there.

Where is there? I’m still not sure, but I believe it’s where circumstances mean little in my life. I want to be able to have Jesus in my heart and share that with those neighbors even when they’re staring me down. I want to have joy because I know Jesus, and not have my joy be dependent on having a job. So I still think I’m getting there. And following Jesus isn’t really a destination, because that implies an end. It’s just the way that I’m going to try and live my life, and I’m hopefully becoming a better person through this process. I hope that’s what this community is about.

Lately it has been hard for me to feel Jesus in my everyday life, and I’m realizing that’s only because I’m not letting him in to my everyday life. When we really open ourselves up to Jesus, which is a conscious everyday decision, the tightrope metaphor goes out the window. We’re no longer walking, trying not to fall; we’re doing something else. I’m not sure what that other thing is, but it’s probably something that I can’t even imagine. It’s impossible to confine Jesus to time and space. Looking at it this way is easier for me than calling out the fact that I generally refuse to trust Jesus or apply his perspective to my life each day.

I didn’t intend to write with a cheesy metaphor, but sometimes they work for me. Life is a tricky balance and near impossible to negotiate when we try to act solely as individuals. That’s why Jesus, close friends, and the Circle of Hope community are important. I can’t really live life without that.

conducive to a delicate constitution

Published
by
Steve Hoke
on June 5, 2008
in Community, Dialogue and Family
. 3 Comments

My wife is beautifully pregnant. For the past 29 weeks I’ve been reading books, talking with wise friends, attending birth classes, and talking with my wife. Through all of the discussion and reading, one thing has risen to the top of the list; I need to be tender with my wife. I need to create for her a sense of safety, encourage her, make sure her voice is being heard, and love her. If you find yourself with a pregnant lady and don’t have the time to read all the books, I just outlined most of them for you.

The first time reading that I need to be tender I thought to myself, “Well, sure, I do that already.” However I kept reading it in the books, then friends said it to me, and the very educated birth lesson lady told me the same thing. Apparently I needed to hear it. I have decided that we all need to hear it: be tender to each other. If you are walking with someone who is carrying another life inside her its pretty easy: be tender. But even if it’s your housemate, guy that sits next to you at work, burly bald man at public meetings, new person in your cell group: be tender. They need it. So do you.

Being overly conscious of my pregnant partner’s changes has helped me learn about her needs, it’s also opened a window to other people’s needs. I’m not as tender as I like to think, but I am talking steps to improve. It takes practice and intentionality. Once more: be tender.

Am I going to get a call?

Published
by
Melissa DiPento
on June 2, 2008
in Community and Planning
. 3 Comments

During my senior year of high school in Bucks County, I felt like I was being called to go to school in Philadelphia and pursue my passion for writing and following what was going on in the world. So I went to Temple University for journalism.

During my years at Temple, I had spent most of my time covering sports for Temple’s student newspaper. Somewhere in the past year or so, I felt called to branch outside of sports and to write about news, Philadelphia, politics and the local communities surrounding Temple—things that I cared a lot about.

And now I’m waiting for something else.

I just graduated from Temple last week and am now faced with the daunting task of finding my first real job.

Philadelphia is everything I had ever hoped for in a city and to have the chance to write about the news here is my dream. I care a lot about the city and am very interested in writing about things that are important to the people who live here.

I am trying hard to stay here in Philadelphia. I’m part of a wonderful community here at Circle and I feel closer to God now than I ever have been. My family and friends are all here, too. I feel so compelled to stay here, yet I feel like the outside world and the demands of my chosen career are telling me the opposite.

Since Philadelphia is in the Top 5 media markets, it is hard for me to find a secure job here in what I want to do. I’ve applied and interviewed at places that are certainly not close enough to commute from Philly. I went into one job interview last week in Central Pennsylvania with the premonition that I was going to hate it. I actually really liked it and could see myself working there and enjoying the job.

I realize I am going to have to make sacrifices for a job, but I’m not sure if I can sacrifice leaving Philadelphia. I was brought up to think that making money is not the most important thing in life and that being close to loved ones and doing a job you enjoy and love are more important.

I guess at this point in my life, I expected that God would be calling me to be doing something specific, somewhere specific. And now that I’m at the point where I have to start making some big decisions, I feel stressed and burdened by the choices I have to make.

After the interview yesterday, I called my dad and he was surprised when I told him I could actually picture myself working there. A couple of weeks ago, he told me that God would be with me no matter where I lived and worked. It seems obvious, but at the time, I had a temporary brain malfunction and had forgotten that simple, but true concept.

Even still, I am continuing to struggle with the idea of not feeling called to be anywhere. I know I am called to do something, but I am struggling with where I need to be to do it. Does it matter where I use my talents?

I have been trying to pray about it lately and that has cleared my mind. At this point, I’m just praying and trying to leave it up to God.