Really Small Beginnings

We love our neighborhood. It’s small, (just fifty homes), but diverse. A couple of years ago my husband joined the neighborhood HOA board to better know the residents around us and play a more active role in our little community. Those quarterly meetings are part of his “grind,” but his efforts have been paying off. After years of closed garage doors and quiet streets, our neighborhood has begun to brighten. Last fall we had our first ever block party and the turnout was wonderful. We met so many other young families like ours and we felt so encouraged by everyone’s efforts to come out of their homes and open themselves up to the world outside their locked doors. Just two weeks later on Halloween night, our neighborhood was bustling with energy and excitement. Now, during the Christmas holiday, we have a decoration contest and our neighbors do not disappoint. (Except us. We do. We hang a wreath on the door and string some garland and call it a day, because we’re cheap, lazy, and have no room to store lawn decorations the other 11 months of the year. But God bless us, everyone.) Instead, we live vicariously through Travis, directly across the street from us. He takes his cues right from the Clark Griswold holiday handbook and we’re content to enjoy his light show through our windows all December long.

Now we have a neighbor we trust to bring in our mail for us while we’re traveling, and just last month I helped our elderly neighbors clean out their garage before they moved. The family next door lets their kids join us for fireworks on holidays and the girls on the other side of the fence get in water gun fights with my kids from time to time. These seem like small things, but up until six months ago, they weren’t happening. Earlier this year, my husband and I felt the Lord nudging us to take the command, “Love thy neighbor,” literally. We’d made some small strides in getting to know our neighbors, but we wanted to offer hospitality in a way we hadn’t before.

We decided to host monthly movie nights in our backyard. We have a movie projector we use to show films at the back of our house. It’s been a hit with our kids and our friends for years, but we’d never invited our neighbors before. My husband created a great-looking flyer listing all the information for our family-friendly, neighborhood movie nights. I figured we could take 30 minutes and slip a flier into every mailbox. Simple. Easy. Requires almost no effort or sacrifice. That’s my jam. My husband, the pastor, had a different plan in mind. (Insert my deep sigh here.) He suggested we go as a family, door-to-door, and personally invite all fifty households to our movie nights. Yay. So, throughout five evenings, in 100+ degree heat. we tackled one street at a time, ringing doorbells and introducing ourselves to every person who answered. After the first night, I had to admit my husband had the right idea. (There, I said it.) It made all the difference to invite them face-to-face. People were so receptive to the idea of a neighborhood gathering. They were all very appreciative of the invitation. Most even said they were excited and looking forward to coming. Some conversations lasted a few seconds, others lasted much longer. Each and everyone was rewarding. We met over half the families in our neighborhood, just by passing out fliers. We mapped our neighborhood and wrote in the names of each family we met. We were so encouraged!

July 25th was the day of our first movie night. We cleaned up our backyard, rearranged furniture, and then realized we may not have enough room to fit more than a few families. We had no clue how many people to expect. We relocated to our front yard to make sure we could accommodate everyone. I found myself praying. I prayed for laughter, for new relationships to be formed, and for our neighbors to feel comfortable and welcome by our family. We brought out our lawn chairs and our snacks, and we waited. Right on time, the first neighbor arrived… she was also the last. We tried to hide our disappointment. She was a young air force contractor, relatively new to the neighborhood. We were a sad-looking bunch, our family of four and our one lone neighbor, sweet as she was. We couldn’t believe that of fifty households, only ONE showed up. What happened? Was it even worth it?

Yes, it was worth it, and here’s why. Everything I prayed for was answered. Our new friend had nieces and nephews the same age as our kids so she was perfectly comfortable getting to know us and engaging our son in his 5-year-old banter. We chatted all night during the movie. We got to know her story and her background. We laughed together and genuinely enjoyed our evening. If our yard had been filled to the brim with people, we never could have achieved the depth of conversation we had. We were obedient to the call to love our neighbors, to extend hospitality, and God provided. We have more movie nights scheduled, once a month for the rest of the year. Will we keep doing it, after the first one had such a poor showing? Yes, we will. God told our family to extend our home to the fifty families around us. We’ll stay the course and remain faithful and consistent, not for any personal gain or glory, but because it’s in the obedience we get a front-row seat to watch God work. God wasn’t surprised only one neighbor showed up on July 25th. He knew she needed connection and friends, and He knew we needed to redefine what successful hospitality looked like. So many wonderful things come from small beginnings, and we believe this is one of them. These movie nights may catch on eventually. But even if they don’t, we’ll relish the relationships we form with the few individuals that turn up.

In her book, Finding Holy in the Suburbs, Ashley Hales shares how little we need to offer true, Jesus-centered hospitality to those around us. “When we open up our lives and homes to others, we respond to Jesus’ invitation of welcome by offering ourselves and our time as ‘living sacrifices’- as offerings of faithful presence,” says Hales. Ourselves and our time. That’s all we need. In our case, we also needed a movie projector, but use whatever you have and offer it to others. Then show up and see what God can do. “Starting small is how we practice a ministry of presence. We show up. Showing up always means that you are digging your hands into someone else’s shared brokenness. Hospitality is messy, but it’s real. It’s practical and intentional. We take our calendar out and map out the neighborhood. We save several calendar squares a month, just to have people in our home- no catch, no rote gospel presentation, no agenda except to see them and to love them,” says Hales.

It’s hard to know where to start. Finding Holy in the Suburbs makes several great suggestions. If you don’t know what you have to offer, start by tithing your time. “Allow free evenings where you stroll around your neighborhood, pray and try to be a good neighbor. Find needs. Ask how you can help those needs.” Those elderly neighbors I helped clean out their garage? I had to pursue them once the For Sale sign went up in their yard. They were usually quick to shut their garage behind them. I lay in wait as they stepped out to collect their mail and then I bolted across the street to strike up a conversation and offer assistance with their move. (It wasn’t as stalker-ish as it sounds, I swear.) They never would’ve asked. "Reach out. Let your neighbors know when you need help too. Ask for help. Receiving help means we believe practically that we need a community to thrive.” We used to stop our mail and ask friends from church to check for packages when we were out of town. A few months ago we asked a neighbor instead. That simple request led to more intimate conversation and an opportunity to pray for them as they endured a personal loss.

How is God calling you to step outside your home and extend love to your neighbors? Are you willing to face disappointment and rejection to do it? Do you believe God can work through your perceived “failed” attempts? Start small and see what comes of it. See where God leads. You may be surprised, but He won’t be.

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A Doris and May Friendship

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Pursuing the Grind, Not the Glory