Have you ever noticed that you can measure life stages in the way that you move?  Usually, it looks something like this:

Stage 1:  Borrow a pick-up truck, bribe your friends with beer and pizza, and toss your belongings half-hazardly in a an eclectic mix of boxes (or directly in the truck)

Stage 2:  Pay for a moving truck, bribe your friends with beer and pizza, and toss your belongings into pre-purchased moving boxes a few days before the move

Stage 3:  Pay for movers to pack up your house and move your stuff for you.  Tip them with pizza and beer.  Notice you suddenly have more friends in your life.

Like most 20-somethings, I have yet to progress to moving stage 3.  But I have had my fair share of moves - at last count, I’ve moved seven times in just as many years.  At least two of the moves were related to being newly married or newly divorced, but there is also some serious wanderlust mixed in, too.  

I am currently in the midst of move #7, and this one comes with a distinct sense of loss I haven’t felt before.  For the past two years, I have been “living in community”.  Meaning, I’ve been sharing a home with 4 other people my age (a married couple and the husband’s two brothers to start with, replacing the brothers with two other friends over the last year when the brothers each got married).  But this isn’t your typical 20-something housemate situation.  Rather, we made a conscious effort to be a family.  Our house was a home - to us, to our friends, to our blood-related families.  Our food was shared - nothing was labeled “Jim - HANDS OFF!!!!!” in the fridge.  If dinner was cooked, it was cooked for whomever was home.  If games were played, who ever wanted to participate could join in.  There was mutual respect, a fair division of chores, and a healthy understanding that sometimes we all just needed our own space.

This living situation was particularly important for me because of the timing in which it occurred.  I moved in with these friends shortly after I separated from my wife.  These were fellow brothers and sisters in Christ who were willing to walk with me through the pain of separation and the fire of divorce.  When I needed prayer, I just needed to step out into the living room.  When I needed advice, it was usually in the kitchen (while something delicious was being baked.....not by me.)  When I needed the encouragement to continue fighting for my marriage, I received it.  And when I simply needed to laugh and forget all the pain (if just for a moment), I was surrounded by friends willing to join in the laughter.  

The great thing about living in community was how God showed me the importance of a church body especially in times of crisis.  Over time, I began to realize that this community was caring for me in ways that I didn’t fully understand.  I began to find community in a variety of places - at work, in my Grad school program, through the guys in my life group, my family and relatives, and my circle of friends from all stages of life.  It was because of these communities that I was able to find the strength to fight for my marriage.  It was through them that I was able to heal when it became clear my wife’s heart was not willing to stay in the marriage.  It is through them that I truly experienced the meaning of this verse:

Real wisdom, God's wisdom, begins with a holy life and is characterized by getting along with others. It is gentle and reasonable, overflowing with mercy and blessings, not hot one day and cold the next, not two-faced. You can develop a healthy, robust community that lives right with God and enjoy its results only if you do the hard work of getting along with each other, treating each other with dignity and honor. - James 3:17 (The Message)

In today’s Facebook’d, Twitter’d, Tivo’d, Drive-Thru’d, individualistic society, it is easy for us to forget the power that exists in community.  It’s easy to shut off from the world, retreat to your room (or perhaps in a relationship?  A hobby?) and maintain only surface level connections with people in your life.  It happens at church, it happens at work, it even happens within some families.  I’ve been there.  In the months before I got separated, I was fully entrenched in my spouse and all my meaningful friendships were cut off or dying.  It wasn’t until I was in community that I matured.  My faith matured.  My self-confidence matured.  We are meant to connect with each other as believers and as humans.

It’s been a unique, but amazing, living situation and life will certainly be different without “The Estate” (when 4 last names live under one roof, you need a catchy name for your household).  The community we created there, however, has been a beautiful picture of how the church community should be.  And the friendships formed at “The Estate” will certainly continue whether we share a roof or not.