A few weeks ago, I was being interviewed by a documentary film crew behind my bar. They asked me what I was passionate about. (Vodka, Cabernet, IPA?)

“Community.”

So what are you going to do with your life?

“Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe I’ll know by the time I’m 30.”

We used to have this saying in the Bethel Admissions Office – “You never know what happened on the car ride over.”

I don’t think this filmmaker had any clue that I had just decided to move out of my community house. I had reached a depth of discouragement in my pursuit of community and I was sick of fighting. For the first time, I entertained the idea of packing up my car and hitting the road again this summer.

This was confusing.

Just a year ago I was walking the streets of Williston with a dream and a vision – one I thought had been deposited by the Holy Spirit. I prayed for a house, a place where we could discover God’s vision for community and share it with as many of our neighbors as we could reach.

The house fell right into our hands. It was furnished. It was paid for. An impromptu lunch conversation connected me with a young lady who had a degree in Women’s Ministry, she was passionate about community and move-in ready.

How could this possibly go wrong?

Yet over the last year, the stress and discouragement of the project has reduced me to tears (and extreme cardio) on multiple occasions. It seemed the walls of the 1308 brought more death than life. Sometime this winter, I finally had to dump my vision completely – and hope we could scrap something together with what we did have. We were hardly communicating, and I spent most of my free time anywhere but home.

After months of frustration, I finally concluded that the solution was not in my toolbox – and I needed to stop digging.

God, what are you doing? Did I mess this whole thing up? Am I not listening?

In that moment it all came together – the missing piece was staring me in the face.

I wasn’t called to this home to be a teacher. I was the student.

I thought I knew all there was to know about community. I came from a city – I’ve seen thriving communities. I have a friendship that several people have asked me to preach about. I had counseled dozens of people through relational issues, and achieved a high number of healthy, thriving relationships in my own life. I HAVE A $120,000 DEGREE IN THE BIBLE. My community resume was large, and I could never have imagined I would have been invited to this project for any other reason. I assumed at age 24 I had worked out all of the kinks in my emotional and spiritual life – the rest of my life would be casual maintenance. (Hardy-har-har).

I can remember a few times this year thinking, if only I could have hand-picked the members of this house it would be working. No offense, God, but a monkey could probably tell you the intersection of our three personalities would not start a movement.

B made me really insecure. I made her very afraid. Loni pushed my buttons with force. I pushed back. Our sin was a tangled web and the only direction we were moving was backwards.

Remember what I said a bit ago about the 1308 bringing more death than life? Here’s the thing: I was exactly right. And it was the best thing that could have ever happened.

In this house, so much had to die before anything could live.

My anxiety disorder. B’s fear. Our violent independence. My tendency to withdraw from conflict. Fear of the other. Overcommittedness. Duplicitousness. Need-to-prove. Self-serving spirit. Shame. Insecurity. Fear of rejection.

It all had to die – and it was going to be very painful.

I remember when I was a kid, every spring our neighbor Al would burn all of the grass in our development. He would take somewhat green grass and it would turn black and ugly. I never quite understood the point – yet within a month, we were surrounded by beautiful, healthy green grass.

As the gospel tells us, everything must die before it can live.

When you finally realize you’re a student, all you need to do is learn. You don’t have to worry about messing up, botching a lesson – watching the project fall apart. You just watch and learn. And grow.

I will be a student of community my entire life. Perhaps someday I’ll teach my classmates a thing or two – but I will always be learning.

———————

No boxes for me. I’m right in the center of God’s calling for my almost-25-year-old self, and God is bringing everything to life. Hand-in-hand with L & B, we’re moving forward.

He’s bringing everything to life.

Proverbs 24:27
“Finish your outdoor work and get your fields ready; after that, build your house.”