Liz's visit to UMC

Resurrection happens - a more sober Cowboy, a housed Peanut, Wanda's son's acceptance to a magnet school, Rex Wickline, as it turns out, wasn't hit by a train two years ago, but was in a recovery program in Alabama. The long prayed prayers are sometimes answered.

I spent nearly a week at the Urban Ministry Center - a place which in the midst of gaping needs, always puts me more in touch with my own needs, more than my ability to sate anyone else's. With no job responsibilities, I have been living in the land of stories. Taking time for the sweetest parts of life, I walked to the Center each day (about 3 miles), stopping to talk to folks along the way, sitting down to take in sunlight and conversations, walking with someone to the nearest pay phone instead of giving directions, and speaking lots of spanish (gracias a Jorge para mucho practicar).

By far the sweetest part of the visit, however, was soccer. The UMC Soccer team, which will be traveling to Scotland in July (check out the website: www.homelesssoccer.org) to represent the U.S. in the Homeless World Cup, is a community, however dysfunctional it might be. Of the eleven players, two have histronic personality disorders (prone to great drama fro those non-DSM IV users); three can't currently compete because they are in drug treatments programs, one (who worked with me on my attempts to one day do a pull-up) insists on dancing throughout all the warm-up drills, most are learning soccer for the first time, and all players smoke. Imagine taking all the kids who had a difficult time getting along with others in school and put them on a team and competed them against yuppie young adults, primarily who played soccer in high school and perhaps college (reminds me a bit of Bottle Rocket). Yes, a recipe for disaster, and the potentional for some amazing moments of redemption. Breaking across race, ethnic, class and gender lines, this group is really contemplating what it means to be a team. Having each other's back is not a new concept on the street (nor in Rex Kwan-Do), but the notion of calling forth the best in one another, this is one that does not come easily within a population who finds its solace in mutual failure. I was speaking with a volunteer yesterday whose partner is a recovering addict (who at times is not so recovered). She spoke of the difficulties of loving him, but the joys of being with someone who is up for battling the demons of life. It is this sense of courage which makes the soccer team such an amazing group (community, really). To claim our own shame and push through - what a gift in life.

My prayers are with you guys and I look forward to hearing updates.

Jana's Wedding

Well, it's official. Jana and Joel are married! The week preceding the wedding was a little crazy. Jana and Joel both graduated with their doctorates last weekend, and their families were out for that. Jana's parents and sister stuck around all week. We had a lot of fun, including a very fine afternoon tea party at the Wa-Duke on Tuesday (Jana's mom and sister, Jana, Joel, and me). It was great. On Wednesday, Joel and I played golf (also at the Wa-Duke, actually). It was a nice chance for me to give him a little advice on what it takes to handle living with Jana over the long haul. Also, on the 18th hole, I chipped the ball right into the cup from about 5-7 feet off the green. The bachelorette party was wild and crazy, with plenty of drinking, a little poker, a little talk about sex, and chocolate cake. The bachelor party began with a co-ed viewing of Star Wars Episode III, then the men went out for drinks. Clearly, I can't say any more.

Jana was amazingly calm beginning sometime Friday afternoon. Joel, however, was stressed far beyond belief. It was actually quite cute. He was really afraid he would do something stupid and mess up the day for Jana. The ceremony was beautiful. The bride was gorgeous, the couple was happy. The tea party reception was all about Jana. That is, it was so perfect. The tea was great, the food was great, the music was great (Irish! a guitar and a fiddle). We even got a picture of all the Iredell folks (alums etc) who were there (and who stayed that long!).

Jana and Joel seem happier than ever. They're off to Denver for a bit, then Europe. I'm relieved that the Iredell Bed and Breakfast is (at least temporarily) closed. The place is a lot quieter, and for now, I'm glad.

Year-end Reflections

Well, May has once again come upon us here at Iredell House, and most of us are dispersed or dispersing to the four winds. Divinity students are off to their field education placements. Liz, our public policy guru, is off to spend a bit of time with family and friends before her summer internship starts, and Jana is in the final flurry of preparations for her wedding (May 21). Barry and Joey left Wednesday. Clifton and Kent left Saturday. The comings and goings here are part of life, but they don't get any easier. The questions of how to be in relationship change and shift as the geography changes. What it means when we share the space is one thing; what it means when we don't is another.

So, what does it mean to be in relationship with one another as these things shift and change? I've been thinking a lot lately about relationships in general and how they ebb and flow over time, how things which seem like mountains at one point later turn out to be molehills, and vice versa, of course. For some reason, I've lately been thinking about two things in particular, and they're last year things, but I think relevant to us as well.

First, I recall that about this time last year, I sat down with a friend of mine and gave -- for the first time -- a sort of blow-by-blow account of life in Iredell last year. I described some of our bad beginnings and proceeded to say, "And I think that's the point at which being a real Christian community became impossible for us." He called me out on thinking that way, because, of course, change, repentance, forgiveness -- it's all always possible, especially with God's grace.

Second, I think about what for me is one of the most powerful instances of that: my relationship with Jana. Like so many of the relationships in the community last year, ours was strained and marked by a lot of distance and silence. And then one day, for no real immediately apparent reason except the sense that the community was falling apart (maybe she can remind me of something), and clearly with the help of God's grace, we closed the gap. It was amazing. And it happened as we were sitting around the kitchen table.

I guess I'm thinking all this because I'm feeling the distance. Some of it is as simple as geography, and as missing out on good-byes to Liz and Joey before they left. Some of it is the distance we've talked about from this spring, the ways in which so many of us were pulled in different directions. Much of it is me, my own distractions and choices, diving into other relationships, sometimes at the expense of those in the house, though for the most part not consciously so. I'm not saying that our distance is the distance of last year; nothing about it seems so oppressive or silent. And distance and silence aren't bad things, always. Sometimes they give you a certain sort of "breathing room," time to reassess, readjust, re-commit if need be.

I wonder what, for each of us, the space and changes of the summer will bring. How will we use this time to grow, both personally and collectively? And I wonder, in these liminal times, what new hopes and dreams for our community will spring up, what new needs we might see, or what old ones we might find the courage to name. More the questions I'm sitting with, so far, than any real answers. Any thoughts?

Welcome!

Iredell House techno-babble has just been upped to a whole new level. In conversations with a couple of housemates, we've talked about ways to keep communication lines open throughout the summer, and perhaps also to create a space for us to share some reflections about our life in community. Kent's friend Caleb has just helped us set up this blog, as an experiment in perhaps creating such a space. Let's give it a try, shall we?