What I Miss

I didn't get one single solitary second to myself on our trip to Iraq. I miss that.

I am a self-proclaimed introvert. Some argue that fact with me, but I stand by it. When I need alone time, I NEED alone time.

At the same time, I have craved this thing called community since long before I first heard it defined (this is where I would like to pause to sing the praises of Larry Crabb, but I won't). Growing up, I preferred the school year to summer because I was guaranteed time with my friends every single day. The highlights of each summer were the ten days I spent at our small church camp crammed into a cabin with old friends and new. High school doesn't hold an ounce of nostalgia for me EXCEPT for the small group of friends God blessed me with my first year and held together until we graduated. And I don't associate myself with the college I attended to nearly the degree that I associate myself with the Christian organization I was a part of while there. And then, three summers "working" at Kamp (more crammed cabin living), and a year in Branson with Doulos Ministries made my last days as a single woman the most fulfilling of my life to that point. There was no alone time at Doulos. It was community at its finest, in my opinion. The kind that people who don't know any better accuse of being a cult. : )

So, clearly, there is room to argue my introvertedness (introversion?). Although...my Doulos friends would be the first to tell you that no one shot out the door faster or trudged back in more hesitantly on their day off than me. I lived for those days. : )

But back to Iraq. Like I said, I didn't get a second to myself. I wondered if that might be a problem. I hoped I could handle it for ten days. After eight years of being home with small children and basically letting my need for community dry up and wither away, I completely forgot to LOOK FORWARD to it. Fortunately, God didn't waste any time reminding me that I love being with a group of like-minded people who are sharing an experience, leaning on each other, praying together, laughing together, crying together, fighting and forgiving together, and SERVING together. At the end of our first full day there, I realized the rest of our time there was going to be more than just purposeful, trying, and worth it. It was going to be fun. And relational. So I soaked every bit of it up for the rest of the week.

Now I'm back home. And just like I missed my family terribly while I was away but also fully enjoyed my time immersed in relationships there, I am now fully enjoying being back with my family but very much missing my little Iraq community. And community in general. It's harder to come by here. It has to be scheduled. And honestly, I'm not sure what else it takes to make it happen. But now that I've been reminded just how much I need it, I'm sure the Lord will help me figure that out.

Our team of five is getting together Saturday night with our families, and I CAN'T WAIT. I won't be clinging to any of them for dear life while I wait for our plane to crash, or crammed so tightly into a car with them that none of us can breathe, or sitting with them on a Kurdish family's rug wondering how on earth we're going to fit more fruit and tea into our stomachs, or manning a craft table with them while fifty kids threaten to pin us to the wall in their enthusiasm over foam picture frames, or praying with them well after midnight to close the day. But we've done those things together, and that's what makes us a community. I plan on soaking it up as long as it lasts. And in the meantime, I hope I've learned to be a little less protective of my time. I hope I'll see potential in every new relationship. And I hope I'll make the most of the ones I already have.