MY Community

I’m kinda weird.

No, no, don’t try to deny it. Its true. If you remain dubious, my wife and mother will both happily provide confirmation.

I’ve always lived in this strange tension between groups – belonging to many but not really belonging to any. This isn’t so much an adolescent existential crisis – at least, I don’t think so…but adolescents always deny it too…dang dirty paradoxes!!

Part of it stems from my inability to do things the “normal” way. I graduated high school in August – so, not a full year early and not with my original class…I’m not really in either group. As a growed-up, I’ve tried to walk the line between academics and practical ministry – which means that I’ll likely never be a stand-out in either and I’m not enough of a people person to do a good job of bringing the two groups together. There’s another one…what kind of introvert goes into church planting?? A weird one.

I have conservative friends who all think I’m too liberal (they’re probably right) and liberal friends who all think I’m too conservative (they’re probably right…but admittedly there are fewer of them and they’re all pretty weird too.)

Country folks say I’m too city and city-folks say I’m too country…though using the word “city-folks” certainly provides a colloquial indicator of leaning toward the former. Of course, using “colloquial indicator” returns the scale to neutral.

Many in the Churches of Christ find me suspect – and so does everyone outside the Churches of Christ. Maybe that’s not a good example, I’m just suspect.

If scientists had any reason to study me they’d find a confusing mixture of (over)work ethic and laziness, obsessive tendencies and flightiness, perfectionism and procrastination.

I absolutely love to plan things in my head. Stupid random things that aren’t ever going to become reality – but if they do, I have a plan in place. The only problem is that I can’t stand operating under a strictly planned regimen like the ones I concoct.

You may say to me, “You aren’t so unique. There are plenty of people who are wired this way.”

Touché scientist.

However, my response is, “Yes. There are others like me. And they too are weird.”

Make no mistake, this weirdness sets the stage for interesting things to happen. I have accumulated a number of life experiences which are inspirational and/or (usually and) utterly ridiculous. And it seems that I’m genetically predisposed to these sorts of stories.

The closest I’ve come to “normalcy” was right before I got laid off and moved my family to New Orleans in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.

But these interesting stories come at a price. Life isn’t an epic novel and I’m not the beloved main character. Maybe I’m the strange traveling companion who bites it just before the plot resolves…who knows, my “biting it” may just provide the aforementioned resolution.

And unlike a character in a novel, I often don’t experience a miraculous rising above my limitations. I also haven’t found the instant healing energy/medical packs that litter the video game landscape.

They say that its darkest right before dawn – which if “dawn” is defined as the point at which it starts getting light, then that statement is like saying you found something in the last place you looked. Really? Amazing.

But the problem I’ve found is that when you think you’ve reached that darkest time right before dawn… it often gets darker still. You don’t know the night is as dark as it can get until it starts getting light again. So waiting for dawn seems to be a recipe for frustration and ulcers.

But you can only sing so many songs to make the night seem less terrible.

My life lacks normalcy. I’ve accepted that. I often feel like an outsider everywhere I go…partly due to the abnormal rhythms of my life, but mostly due to my general weirdness. Okay. We’ve lived in our current house for three years. That is by far the longest I’ve lived anywhere since leaving my parents’ house back in the 20th century. Today, I had a brief and yet eye-opening experience.

While my truck was drinking an expensive steak dinner for two’s worth of gas, I went into the gas station to get a cup of ice. In the contemporary world of 32oz plastic cups, ice ain’t free. Supposedly that used to happen – in Mayberry – when everybody was neighborly and whatnot. Those days are gone. I live in a hyper-mobile culture where nobody knows anybody and ice ain’t free.

But today it was.

And I realized that it has been on several occasions at this gas station…just like the coffee often is at my favorite cafe (if you know me, you know what that is…but I’ll leave the name out in case Big Brother is listening). Why was my ice free? For the same reason my coffee often is.

Because I’m a “regular.” Because I’m part of the group. Because even if they don’t all know my name, they recognize my face.

For whatever its worth, to some small degree, I belong to these transient communities. A moment of normalcy in the midst of chaos. I initially set out to “inhabit” these spaces three years ago as on opportunity for missional engagement in THE community. Somewhere along the way it became engagement in MY community.

…Which probably means we’ll have to move soon.

Sorry, neither of you two readers would have believed this was authentic if I didn’t include a little cynicism.

Perhaps I should say more about this. I should unpack it and explain away the weirdness to show how I’ve developed healthy rhythms within the insanity…to provide some attempt at profundity. But I haven’t…so I won’t. Today, a brief moment of connection will have to suffice – for me and for you.


Posted on October 7, 2011, in church planting, community, missional community, missional living, outsider, perseverance, perspective. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. Oh, Bret….don’t you think you belong to another little community of weirdos??? the one I belong to??? 😉 You are a good writer. I really enjoyed reading this and I’m honestly sad I don’t get around to blog reading more.

  2. Lyd, there’s no questioning that community…or its own weirdness! I realized my acceptance in this family the first time that Ira and I made Jodi cry…about 12 years ago! Without doubt, our family has been a constant in our unpredictable escapades – and the main reason that both Corpus Christi and New Orleans always seemed too far from home. I told somebody up here in Alaska that while I’m pretty much a Texan to the core, if all our family all moved to Minnesota, we probably wouldn’t be far behind. (By the way, if you guys all want to move to Anchorage, I’d support that plan!)

  3. I like what you guys are up too. This sort of clever work and exposure!
    Keep up the great works guys I’ve added you guys to our blogroll.

  1. Pingback: Just Some Dude From The Neighborhood | Missional Monks

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