I have the best neighbors
in the world. Really, I do. The Jordans, the Morrisons, the Campbells--all of them
are more than neighbors. They are my family. They are the village who helped
to raise my children. I can count on them for anything: mechanical advice for
our beat-up vehicles from Jim; a fresh loaf of homemade bread from Ms. Marilyn;
a smile and a hug from Ms. Bertha; a fervent, on-demand prayer from Mr.
Coyt.
Just yesterday, when I
knocked on Ms. Marilyn's door at eight o'clock in the morning to share some
extra squash I had, she opened the door with a smile and said the same thing she says every time I go over there: "Come on in!" And you know what? She meant it. Still in her robe, with no makeup on yet, that early in the
morning, she sincerely wanted me to come in for a visit.
She wasn't just being polite. I declined her invitation because I was on my way
to the store, but I swear, I felt guilty about it.
I didn't want to
disappoint her.
Why? Because I recognize
the effort being made to reach out and love me. I know that all of my neighbors
are dealing with their own pain. Emotionally and physically. The Jordans have had their share life challenges and are physically not as active as they hope to be. The Morrisons
have known unspeakable horror of knowing their only daughter was
brutally murdered at the young age of 19. They could choose to be
extremely bitter at God and at humankind and shut everyone out. But they
don't. None of my neighbors do.
They choose to forgive and they choose to love. They unselfishly
take time for others.
When any of my neighbors
say, "Come on in!" they truly want their guests to feel welcome and
to sit and visit for a long time. If you show up unannounced, they will stop
what they are doing and give you their full attention. They ask questions and
are truly interested in your answers. There is no lip service here;
I'm not sure they would even know how.
They love to tell funny
stories about their childhood, about each other, and about their children. Oh, how they love their children! They wrap their arms around my children and love them as their own, despite how much pain
they may be feeling. The Morrisons often tell me how much Abbey reminds them
of their Rhonda when she was little. I think it may be healing for them
to remember the sweet things about their child.
I love being around my
neighbors. I love helping to take care of them. And that is healing
for me.
I have another Neighbor
as well. When I knock on God's door, He greets me with, "Come on in!"
He invites me to sit with Him and talk about my stories, my pain, my drama and
my crazy dreams.
He, too, has a sad heart
about this fallen world. And many days, about me. But that doesn't make Him
unapproachable. He forgives and chooses to love me. I am always welcome in His
home and I always love the healing time I spend with Him.
And I believe He is
disappointed when I am too busy to come inside and take time for Him. He
doesn't care what time it is, He just wants me in His presence.
I don't even have to have on my makeup yet.
"Your friendship was a miracle-wonder, love far exceeding anything I've known— or ever hope to know." 2 Samuel 1:25-27
I don't even know my neighbors, except one; and we just wave or occasionally say "Hi". You are blessed, and I know they love you as much as you love them.
ReplyDeleteFunny thing, and this keeps happening with you, I was JUST 10 MINUTES AGO telling Tracy about that horrific murder, and about their loving Abbey so much. And, about Ms. Marilyn, how sweet she is and the jacket.
This is a really wonderful and moving post, April. And I read it with no make-up on! I cannot WAIT until we are all together forever and ever, Amen. Love you!