"Good-bye", "I love you", "You have been such wonderful friends and neighbors", "I am so grateful for your friendship and support". These last few weeks have been full of these phrases as we packed up and emptied our home in Philly and moved to Arizona, all on our way to South Asia. We gave away and sold the vast majority of our possessions, and I remember the sting in my heart the day my salad bowl left our home. I remember how Judah cried for a long time when our friends came to take away our coffee table, which we'd found on the side of the street. I had certainly become more attached to my possessions than I ever had planned or thought.
But sitting here in Arizona a week after leaving it all behind, my heart mourns most for the loss of the community we had in Philly. I haven't thought twice about my salad bowl. I haven't missed my house. My longing is to walk out the front door and catch-up with my dear neighbor, Donna. To see Bryce outside and quickly get Judah's shoes on so he can play and make farting noises with his favorite friend. It's to walk down to Pathmark and run into Mary and Bob and Paul and Stacie on the way and find out the happenings in their lives the last few days. To have them ask me questions about our journey to South Asia and show genuine interest and affection for our family.
I used to run into an elderly woman down the road quite often. I never could remember her name, but she always called me by mine. She stopped in the day of our final garage sale to say good-bye. She had tears in her eyes and expressed how wonderful it was to have neighbors like us. I felt so ashamed I never knew her name. But, I will never forget her face or the conversations we had.
I cried the whole way through the last 4 or 5 Sundays at Lighthouse Worship Center, our church in Philly. I couldn't even look at Iris, my dear friend, or I would just start crying all over again. People like Iris are un-replacable, unlike my salad bowl. Someone who loves me, never judges me, and always makes me laugh.
And then there's my Bible Study friends. The girls I spent most of my time in Philly with...studying God's Word, play dates, outings. My circle of closest friends, who I could always call and get together with at the drop of a hat, and be inspired, encouraged, and renewed.
It all makes me realize....in the end, home has nothing to do with four walls, furniture, fancy TVs, decorations, my favorite dishes. It has everything to do with the people who make my community. I think there's something in most of us that wants to make our house a home. So, we fill it with pretty things and make it our masterpiece...spending lots of time, energy, and money to make it just right. And there's nothing wrong in that to a point. But, I'm realizing more and more that the real investment that will last forever is not in the stuff of my home, but in the people of my community. Because in the end, all the pretty stuff will go away, get old and ugly, or we just might have to get rid of it all for one reason or another. I'm so thankful that I took the time and energy to invest in my community in Philly. It wasn't always easy, but I wouldn't trade that community for anything. Although I can now fit the sum total of my possessions in two suitcases, a carry-on, and a couple small boxes, my cup runneth over!
