We were made for community, in the image of our trinitarian God. But that community was broken in Eden.
We see examples of that brokenness woven throughout the entire Bible. We can even see examples woven into the fabric of our own lives now: natural disasters and man-made disasters march hand-in-hand destroying our world, and on a smaller scale we can, no doubt, think of brokenness we've experienced. It can feel utterly hopeless.
I want to take a wee minute to share part of my story, showing how the seemingly ordinary idea of community can be a foundation for engaging with non-Christians about our faith, as well as hope-building for discouraged Christians.
Postpartum trials
Have you heard of the term "baby brain"? It is a widespread term for the forgetfulness or brain haze that can be experienced when pregnant or post-childbirth, and despite its somewhat jovial use it describes something many women have found hard to navigate.
After my second son was born, I was living with "baby brain". Combined with the after-effects of having had meningitis during my pregnancy, it left me feeling trapped in the fog-bound depths of my mind. As I trudged through my child’s first few years of life (propelled by my new role of "advocate" as we grasped for a diagnosis for him in order to support him properly) I just couldn’t shake the cloud - until the piercing glimpses of God broke through.
These hopeful glimpses didn’t necessarily happen in obvious ways, but they happened in a community of families who found themselves in a similar boat to mine. Through them, the caring Jesus, the God who sees our struggles and who is our greatest advocate, overcame my darkness through scattered seeds of hope.
It was when, for example, we gathered together around a kitchen table and shared our experiences with an abundance of coffee, chocolate brownies and tissues for tears. It was in the plan of action that we formed collectively with the shared goal of supporting our children (a burden shared is a burden halved!). It was in the hugs from other burnt out mums, the nods of understanding between another caregiver and I as we noticed our children playing and laughing together, the “hope everything goes well today, thinking of you!” texts that came on the day of an important and nerve-wracking appointment. It was in the shared anger over systems that fail our children and the shared celebration of often overlooked “milestones”… a million little moments of sharing life in a real, vulnerable and honest way.
Over time these grew into conversations where I could, in turn, scatter seeds in a more intentionally gospel-centred way; conversations about the beautiful God-given identity of our disabled children, about how faith works in family life, about my motivation when life feels tricky, about how I get things wrong and can still go to God with my failures. Tough questions offered opportunities for chats about Jesus and a chance to talk about prayer. Nothing grand, but definitely not insignificant.
As Christians we have a hope that sees the darkness of the world and remains firm. This is something beautiful and to be shared! The experience of wrestling with my faith during a difficult season of life left me profoundly hopeful and deeply thankful for the community around me.
In life, we find ourselves in all sorts of communities, or we can be part of building one; shared experiences can bring people together- it doesn’t need to be anything profound. It just needs to be small seeds of hope scattered in the thick of the ordinary.
Kirsten is a part of Passion for Evangelism, a mentoring and networking group for female evangelists. You can read more encouraging stories about everyday evangelism like this on The Passion for Evangelism network.
