Four Cold Water Bottles

It's Friday morning. Lyla is at a friend's house. I'm supposed to be cleaning my house with these precious, quiet hours but instead I'm sitting here at my kitchen table watching the giant, dead bush separating our yard from our neighbors' get cut down. It was on their property and they wanted to take it out. I don't love change. And I didn't love that bush. But it gave us a certain amount of privacy that felt good. It separated us from them. So I am freaking out a little on the inside, but I can't help but notice how much brighter our backyard is now... 

I've got this song on repeat this morning. I can't believe I didn't know about it before. It's hitting me right in the soul as I watch this bush come down. My heart hurts for people in our city. There are drugs. There's domestic violence. There is poverty. There is pain. There is brokenness. And these are the people I see at the grocery store. These are the people Eric works with at the clinic. These are the families of the babies he's delivered. These are our neighbors and we feel deeply for them. But we also struggle with burnout. It can be frustrating and hard to serve. It gets draining. It often seems pointless and we don't always see positive change. 

We sometimes think we need to do a lot... That we need to help this person beat their addiction or get this baby into a safer home situation. We want the man on the street corner to be able to find work or the woman in a bad relationship to get out. We feel this huge burden for our neighbors and a deep desire to help but it can get overwhelming and paralyzing. 

Maybe it's actually easier to love people than we think... Maybe it starts with four cold water bottles for the guys cutting down the dead bush out back. Or letting someone go first in line at the grocery store. Maybe it's waving at the man around the corner who sits outside his house in his wheelchair watching his dogs. Or teaching the next generation how to love our neighbors and each and every person they see, regardless of our differences...

There is a lot of hurt in our world. There's a lot of hurt in this country. There is a lot of hurt in Muncie, Indiana. There's even a lot of hurt in our little neighborhood. But there's actually a lot we can do about it. We just need to open our eyes to the wounds and let a little light in. 

I'm still sitting here at my kitchen table, but now there are tears streaming down my face as I see the four guys sitting in the shade taking a breather with said water bottles. I'm praying that God keeps showing us simple ways we can love. We can't always fix the deep wounds... We often don't even know what they are... But we can offer rest. A moment of peace. A cool drink of water. 

The dead bush is gone. There's no longer a mess of branches and leaves and twigs to separate us from our neighbors. A barrier has literally been broken down. What. A. Gift. What a beautiful opportunity to get to know them... To share and to love. There's already more light out back and I have a feeling it's just going to get brighter.