I am an introvert. I like my space. I live with a brain injury, which means invisible problems like crowd anxiety and getting overwhelmed easily. My favorite sound is silence. Seriously y'all. This right here is NOT my idea of community.
I much prefer my community to look like this:
Because even though LEAVE ME ALONE, I realize it is only by surrounding myself with community that I will ever truly learn, ever grow beyond my own limited horizons. So I do this...
And then I go wash my hands, because you know, germs. I make space in my space for this...for some people...
Community encourages. Community holds accountable. Community picks me up when I fall down. Community sometimes even gets on the floor with me. Not everybody is my community. Not everybody needs to be. If everybody were my community, can you imagine how uncomfortable this would be:
Community should look like this. Caring. Trusting. Loyal. Patient. Flexible. Forgiving. And all the other words in these cartoon people's bodies. Community should be centered around a common goal. Community should help each person as they need help. When I am having trouble, community should hold my hand a little tighter (but not too tight, cause I still gotta breathe). When someone else is floundering, I offer my shoulder. Or my living room. Whichever fits the situation. Because that is community.
Who am I, you ask?
In 2006 I had a stroke, and every day my husband encourages me to use my remaining brain cells to the best of my ability. I love to organize, make crafts, and go on adventures (safe ones). I hope that through my blog posts, you will be encouraged to accept and make the best of challenges God throws at your life.