Grieving Together

The end of February and beginning of March brought with it much grief for our little community. Within a four-week period, we lost four neighbors - all for different reasons, and most, unexpectedly.

We knew three of the four neighbors fairly well, so our whole family was quickly reminded of what our move to this beautiful little community means for us. With the many opportunities we’ve been given for close relationships and great love, we will also, inevitably, experience great loss.

The same is true for all of us who buy into the idea that life is better lived together. We will lose the ones we love, and somehow, still be better just by having journeyed with them for part of this life.

So we all keep showing up - through the joy and the pain. In fact, we find ourselves leaning in even more when sorrow fills our village streets because we know we’re the lucky ones who get to be part of this tightly-knit community.

Our friends here in the village are on average, an older population. They’ve weathered their fair share of storms - both physically, during their time living on the streets, & emotionally, as their lives have been shaped by great loss, trauma, and isolation. 

So it’s not necessarily surprising that this community has learned to navigate loss in a unique way.

Perhaps there’s more reverence for this communal moment because of the extreme isolation so many have felt in their lifetime. Had some of our neighbors passed away a year or two ago, there wouldn’t be a gathering of friends, nor any family coming quickly, to honor their life.

And now? Well, never have we witnessed a more beautiful,  in-the-moment response to grief than the one here at Community First! Village. The outpouring of Jesus' love is embodied through our neighbors, fellow missionals, and staff who stop whatever they're doing and gather to simply be together when the most difficult moments occur.

This tangible with-ness is remarkably pure & unmistakably holy.

Dandelions are picked by children’s hands. Candles are lit. Silence is shared. More friends arrive. The circle widens. Memories are spoken.

And we wait.

For the medical examiner to arrive. For prayers to be prayed and songs to be sung.

And we wait.

Thanking God for a place to belong and become. Knowing death does not have the final word. Missing our friends in the meantime.