Friends,
Thanks for following my blog! Wanted to let you know that I'm going live today (Dec. 23, 2013) with a new platform. From now on, you can find me at: jerswigart.com.
Please head over, check out the site, subscribe to my blog there, and spread the word.
Thanks!
Jer
Monday, December 23, 2013
Monday, May 20, 2013
Introducing The Global Immersion Project!
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I’m a
dreamer…I always have been. My
dreams tend to orient around innovative methods that lead to the holistic
development of people and, ultimately, to global human flourishing.
Today, after
a year of development, listening, refinement, on the ground experience, and
opened doors into unthinkable partnerships, one of those dreams is becoming a
reality!
In
partnership with my friend and co-founder, Jon Huckins, it is my deepest joy to
introduce The Global Immersion Project.
Oriented around the life and teachings of Jesus (Matthew 5:9; Luke
19:41-42), our work is to cultivate everyday peacemakers through immersion in
global conflict. To do so, we
curate 3-month Learning Labs that culminate in world-class, 2-week immersion
experiences into the seemingly inaccessible global areas of conflict and into
the lives of the everyday peacemakers embedded within.
In short, our
dream is to see an entire global generation equipped with the micro-practices
of peacemaking and collaborating across boarders toward a just, flourishing
tomorrow. To that end, not only
will we be a presence of reconciliation globally, but we will also resource
leaders, global citizens, and emerging influencers to live, love, and lead as
everyday peacemakers in the Way of Jesus from within the context of their own
neighborhoods.
As we
officially “go live,” we would appreciate your support by both joining our
social media outlets AND by helping us share our work through your personal
networks. Here’s how:
1. Check out and Share our Promo Video.
2. Visit our re-launched newly branded website.
3. Follow us at Twitter at @GlobalImmerse
4. Like our Facebook Page
5. Join our mailing list for exclusive
updates & content.
As Jesus
demonstrated, the work of peacemaking is neither esoteric nor glamorous; it’s
grounded, subversive, gritty, and everyday. We must no longer outsource the work of peacemaking but
must, instead, reintegrate it into our vocation as human beings created in the
image of God. In the Way of Jesus,
we must become instruments of peace.
To that end,
Jer
Co-Founder
& CVO of The Global Immersion Project
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Resurrection in the Streets of Bethany...Again!
A few days ago, I was reading in a public space that I shared with several others. Some of them were sleeping, others were reading, and a few were people-watching. As I read, I nonchalantly took in my surroundings and recognized that we were all satisfied with the gift of a few tranquil moments in the middle of an otherwise full day.
And then...our tranquility was interrupted by a little boy with a toy gun. At first, he shot what I could only imagine to be the villains that his eyes alone could see. With boyish confidence he pointed his plastic assault rifle beyond those that I sat among to those he sought to rid us from. With vocalized "Pops!" and "Splats!", the little boy ducked and rolled, somersaulted and jumped...his "mission" seemed successful.
We all smiled at each other, as we remembered our own imaginary adventures of ridding the world of evil.
He blew imaginary smoke from his gun, looked around, and engaged in a different mission. This one was far less pretend and far more personal. This second mission interrupted our shared tranquility far more than the first.
In this mission, the villains were no longer imaginary enemies, they were now those men and women who shared the public space with me. With the same confidence, rather than pointing his assault rifle beyond us, he now pointed it directly at us.
"Pop!" "Splat!" called out the little boy as he sought to eliminate each and every one of us with a pretend bullet through the heart or head.
Smiles turned to troubled glances as we scanned the crowd for the parents of the little boy with a violent imagination.
As I watched this second mission unfold, I was transported back to the streets of Bethany...
Milad and Manar are a young Palestinian Christian couple with a beautiful little boy named Nashan. Milad has the looks of a Middle Eastern movie star complete with slicked back jet-black hair and a well manicured beard. Manar is a beautiful, passionate red-head with an intensity that leaves little doubt as to who is in charge. These two grew up under Israeli occupation in the city of Bethany, a small village located five miles from Bethlehem and just a few more from Jerusalem.
Historically, Bethany is a place of resurrection: its where Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead.
A few years ago, Milad and Manar watched an unsettling story unfold in the streets of Bethany. Rather than the children of their village playing soccer or instruments, they watched them play war. With slingshots imagined and real and with sticks for guns, the neighborhood children would band together to declare war on their enemies. Most of the time, their enemies were imginary, but on other occasions, their enemies became each other.
Having grown up in the same streets under the same occupied scenario, Milad and Manar understood what was going on. Because they lived on the wrong side of a wall and because their village was surrounded by check-points guarded by armed Israeli soldiers, the imaginations of the children of Bethany were becoming calcified. The circumstances of life in the West Bank were producing little human beings who lacked redemptive outlets for their frustration. No national or international funding for the arts or for sport meant that when the kids of Bethany played, all they could imagine was their freedom. Freedom, they believed, that would come through a slingshot before it would come through a soccer ball.
Milad and Manar's response was remarkable:
To do so, they began inviting the children of Bethany into their living room and, through the vehicles of art, literature, music, theater, sport, and, ultimately, through relationship, they began to watch the story unfold differently in their streets. Resurrection...new life...was emerging in Bethany again.
In August, Global Immersion's learning community entered into this story. In the posture of learners, we watched as Milad, Manar, and their team carefully guided and trained over one hundred children in the course of one afternoon. Stunned, we watched and listened to hope growing.
That evening, we gathered at Milad and Manar's little home. The women had snacks and drinks inside while the men circled up in their backyard. Assembled in that circle were one Palestinian Christian (Milad), eight Muslim men (Milad's team), and nine USAmerican Christians (the men from Global Immersion's learning community). After pouring all of the Christians a generous pour of delicious whiskey and all of the Muslims an equally generous pour of Coke, Milad asked an essential question of the USAmericans:
With humility and honesty, nine USAmerican men engaged in dialogue with nine Palestinian men about what we thought as well as what we know now.
But now...
As we went around the circle, I listened as USAmerican men affirmed Palestinian men, communicated what we had learned from them, highlighted our similarities, asked for forgiveness, and expressed our desire for friendship to deepen.
After I answered Milad's question, I reciprocated the same question back to him and our Muslim brothers:
With equal humility and honesty, nine Palestinian men engaged in dialogue with nine USAmerican men about what they thought as well as what they know now.
At the conclusion of our dialogue, conversation went informal, more drinks were poured, and hugs were shared with promises to see each other in the morning. As we returned to our lodging for the night, the nine of us passed Lazarus' old, empty tomb.
In the very place where resurrection had once occurred, I recognized that Jesus is still in the work of resurrection.
And then...our tranquility was interrupted by a little boy with a toy gun. At first, he shot what I could only imagine to be the villains that his eyes alone could see. With boyish confidence he pointed his plastic assault rifle beyond those that I sat among to those he sought to rid us from. With vocalized "Pops!" and "Splats!", the little boy ducked and rolled, somersaulted and jumped...his "mission" seemed successful.
We all smiled at each other, as we remembered our own imaginary adventures of ridding the world of evil.
He blew imaginary smoke from his gun, looked around, and engaged in a different mission. This one was far less pretend and far more personal. This second mission interrupted our shared tranquility far more than the first.
In this mission, the villains were no longer imaginary enemies, they were now those men and women who shared the public space with me. With the same confidence, rather than pointing his assault rifle beyond us, he now pointed it directly at us.
"Pop!" "Splat!" called out the little boy as he sought to eliminate each and every one of us with a pretend bullet through the heart or head.
Smiles turned to troubled glances as we scanned the crowd for the parents of the little boy with a violent imagination.
As I watched this second mission unfold, I was transported back to the streets of Bethany...
Milad and Manar are a young Palestinian Christian couple with a beautiful little boy named Nashan. Milad has the looks of a Middle Eastern movie star complete with slicked back jet-black hair and a well manicured beard. Manar is a beautiful, passionate red-head with an intensity that leaves little doubt as to who is in charge. These two grew up under Israeli occupation in the city of Bethany, a small village located five miles from Bethlehem and just a few more from Jerusalem.
Historically, Bethany is a place of resurrection: its where Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead.
A few years ago, Milad and Manar watched an unsettling story unfold in the streets of Bethany. Rather than the children of their village playing soccer or instruments, they watched them play war. With slingshots imagined and real and with sticks for guns, the neighborhood children would band together to declare war on their enemies. Most of the time, their enemies were imginary, but on other occasions, their enemies became each other.
Having grown up in the same streets under the same occupied scenario, Milad and Manar understood what was going on. Because they lived on the wrong side of a wall and because their village was surrounded by check-points guarded by armed Israeli soldiers, the imaginations of the children of Bethany were becoming calcified. The circumstances of life in the West Bank were producing little human beings who lacked redemptive outlets for their frustration. No national or international funding for the arts or for sport meant that when the kids of Bethany played, all they could imagine was their freedom. Freedom, they believed, that would come through a slingshot before it would come through a soccer ball.
Milad and Manar's response was remarkable:
"We had to give our kids another way of expressing their frustration and imagining a better future. We had to find a way to seed hope."
To do so, they began inviting the children of Bethany into their living room and, through the vehicles of art, literature, music, theater, sport, and, ultimately, through relationship, they began to watch the story unfold differently in their streets. Resurrection...new life...was emerging in Bethany again.
In August, Global Immersion's learning community entered into this story. In the posture of learners, we watched as Milad, Manar, and their team carefully guided and trained over one hundred children in the course of one afternoon. Stunned, we watched and listened to hope growing.That evening, we gathered at Milad and Manar's little home. The women had snacks and drinks inside while the men circled up in their backyard. Assembled in that circle were one Palestinian Christian (Milad), eight Muslim men (Milad's team), and nine USAmerican Christians (the men from Global Immersion's learning community). After pouring all of the Christians a generous pour of delicious whiskey and all of the Muslims an equally generous pour of Coke, Milad asked an essential question of the USAmericans:
"What was your perspective of us Palestinians before you entered into the work of Global Immersion and what is it now?"
With humility and honesty, nine USAmerican men engaged in dialogue with nine Palestinian men about what we thought as well as what we know now.
"I thought you were the enemy."
"I was led to believe that 'Palestinian' is another word for 'Terrorist'."
"I was convinced that you had no right to live here."
But now...
"I recognize how I have 'othered' you."
"I was wrong in equating an entire people group with the behavior of a radical few."
"I have robbed dignity from you simply by not asking better questions."
"You have as much right to living here and living free as I do in my country."
As we went around the circle, I listened as USAmerican men affirmed Palestinian men, communicated what we had learned from them, highlighted our similarities, asked for forgiveness, and expressed our desire for friendship to deepen.
After I answered Milad's question, I reciprocated the same question back to him and our Muslim brothers:
"What was your perspective of us USAmericans before today what is it now?"
With equal humility and honesty, nine Palestinian men engaged in dialogue with nine USAmerican men about what they thought as well as what they know now.
"American Christians are the most myopic people in the world...they come here to walk where Jesus walked, buy they don't care to walk like Jesus walked."
"If American Christians actually followed Jesus, this (pointing to the separation wall that is visible from Milad's backyard) probably wouldn't be here."
"You blindly support Israel...you give them everything they want and ask for...without ever once looking into what they do with what you give them."
But now...
"I was wrong in equating Jesus with the US Government. I was wrong in equating American Christian tourists with Christianity. "
"I've met a different Jesus because of you. I'm intrigued with the Jesus that you follow."
"As you have unfairly 'othered' me, I have unfairly 'othered' you. Please forgive me."
At the conclusion of our dialogue, conversation went informal, more drinks were poured, and hugs were shared with promises to see each other in the morning. As we returned to our lodging for the night, the nine of us passed Lazarus' old, empty tomb.
In the very place where resurrection had once occurred, I recognized that Jesus is still in the work of resurrection.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Introducing The Global Immersion Project
Seven years ago, in the villages of earthquake ravaged northern Pakistan, I began to understand something of the missional genius and Kingdom-potency of incarnational (relational) living in neighborhoods near (local) and far (global). In hindsight, I recognize that He was also releasing me deeper into His dream for me: He has built me to participate with Him in the holistic development of differnece-makers into men and women who live, love, & lead like Jesus.
Here is the snap shot intro (or you can just check out our website).
Purpose Statement
Cultivating difference-makers through immersion in global narratives
Mission Statement
Through diverse, global friendship-making, storytelling, and real-time living, the work of The Global Immersion Project is to develop difference-makers into people who tangibly live, love, and lead like Jesus. We believe in the just impact, locally and globally, that USAmericans can make if we learn to live in the posture of a learner with God, ourselves, each other, and those who inhabit our global village.
What It Looks Like
We offer a four-month learning experience that shapes us into people who promote the Just Heart of God in the Way of Jesus. This Understanding Phase gives invites us into the historical, theological, and modern narratives of Palestinians & Israelis and culminates in a 12-day experience off the beaten trails of tourism in Israel & Palestinian Territories. We choose to immerse into the narratives of our Israeli and Palestinian friends in the posture of learners rather than heros and seek to be intelligent sojourners who embody the narrative of Jesus.
To participate with TGIP is to commit to navigating the experience in Learning Communities that are facilitated by Jon and Jer both in person and available through an online platform. Our cultivation takes place in three phases: (1) understanding;(2) exposure & deeper understanding; and (3) resourced integration that is shaped around extenstive reading, documentary viewing, Scriptural exploration, conversation, and the art of friendship-making. Our goal is to develop practicing theologians who better engage their local and global neighborhoods in the Way of Jesus. Go to our website for the detailed description, curriculum & theological affirmations that shape this experience.
How To Participate
To apply for the experience or to follow along in the real time stories, pictures and video’s from our time navigating the complex realities of Israel/Palestine, jump on board these platforms:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/GlobaIImmerse
Wednesday, January 04, 2012
...like little children...
Ava loves to cook, play, tend to our chickens, garden, picnic, stoop-sit, travel, hang with friends.... She loves all of these experiences very much and I love that she loves them.
Among all of these "loves", a good film ranks right up near the top.
A couple of nights ago, she was watching a film with her two older cousins in Minnesota. All three of them were captivated by the story. Their little heads swayed with the motion of Peter Pan soaring through the sky. They thrust their little arms into the air every time Pan beat Hook. As I watched them watch Peter Pan, I imagined that they were so enthralled with the film that the line between reality and fantasy had altogether disappeared. As far as they were concerned, they were watching the film from within the story.
And then, Ava's youngest cousin (18 mos.) began to cry. After a couple moments of prolonged sobbing, I noticed that Ava's head had turned from the film to Lucy. Her attention shifted from fantasy to reality.
But she didn't stop at noticing her cousin's cries...she got up and did something about it. I watched as she rummaged through a wicker basket for a special blanket. Having found it, she next collected a singing Christmas card that she had just received an hour earlier. With both objects in hand, she neared Lucy, covered her up, showed her the Christmas card, played it for her once, taught her how to do it herself, gently brushed her cheek, and then silently returned to the film without another word.
The adventure of compassionate living had trumped the entertainment of passive fantasy.
My daughter heard the cries of another.
She allowed her life to be interrupted by the life of another.
She tended to the needs of another and then taught the other how to do it herself.
She did all of this with tenderness and with no need to be acknowledged for it.
Having heard the cries and responded, she then drifted back into anonymity.
My daughter prefers compassionate living to passive entertainment.
Do I?
Do you?
Do we?
Among all of these "loves", a good film ranks right up near the top.
A couple of nights ago, she was watching a film with her two older cousins in Minnesota. All three of them were captivated by the story. Their little heads swayed with the motion of Peter Pan soaring through the sky. They thrust their little arms into the air every time Pan beat Hook. As I watched them watch Peter Pan, I imagined that they were so enthralled with the film that the line between reality and fantasy had altogether disappeared. As far as they were concerned, they were watching the film from within the story.
And then, Ava's youngest cousin (18 mos.) began to cry. After a couple moments of prolonged sobbing, I noticed that Ava's head had turned from the film to Lucy. Her attention shifted from fantasy to reality.
But she didn't stop at noticing her cousin's cries...she got up and did something about it. I watched as she rummaged through a wicker basket for a special blanket. Having found it, she next collected a singing Christmas card that she had just received an hour earlier. With both objects in hand, she neared Lucy, covered her up, showed her the Christmas card, played it for her once, taught her how to do it herself, gently brushed her cheek, and then silently returned to the film without another word.
The adventure of compassionate living had trumped the entertainment of passive fantasy.
My daughter heard the cries of another.
She allowed her life to be interrupted by the life of another.
She tended to the needs of another and then taught the other how to do it herself.
She did all of this with tenderness and with no need to be acknowledged for it.
Having heard the cries and responded, she then drifted back into anonymity.
My daughter prefers compassionate living to passive entertainment.
Do I?
Do you?
Do we?
Friday, December 02, 2011
Thoughts from a recovering Grenade Launcher
I received an email today from a young, dynamic college-aged student who has been hard-wired as a restless analysts who is always wondering if there's not something more to this life, this faith, this world.... Its a beautiful wiring that he is trying to learn to live with and leverage for good.
Here's what he wrote:
When we talked back in May, at one point I said that I was increasingly growing tired of being a critic and you told me that you had a similar sort of thought earlier in your life. The exact line you used was, "I've thrown enough grenades!" Over the course of the summer and the fall I am becoming more and more exhausted of my own critical nature.
Unfortunately after having invested so much of my identity into being a critic it's hard to try to change my mindset from destruction to construction.
So I wanted to know how the process of putting aside the grenades and learning how to build something, instead of just attacking everything, has looked for you.
Any insight you might have would be appreciated!
Here's how I interacted with his thoughts:
A couple of thoughts from a recovering Grenade Launcher:
1. Some things (perhaps most things) need to be questioned/deconstructed. It's likely that God has given you a critical eye for a just reason. It's in the way that we question/deconstruct that either results in destruction or construction. In my experience, its in the moments of humble curiosity and a true desire to be helpful rather than unconventional that construction results. It is when the end is my identity being reinforced as "unconventional" that things go awry.
To the "unconventional" thought...how much of your identity have you constructed around being the deconstructor / contrarian / grenader? The more infrastructure you have built into this identity, the more work/pain/challenge will be involved in its deconstruction. Do you see the beautiful irony here? Something actually needs to be "grenaded" in your own understanding of you.
2. Become the part of a solution. The challenge in the transition that you long for is that its actually easier to sit as the critical grenade launcher. This is your path of least resistance (that path worn into the wheat field of your existence -- Ephesians 4). It's fun...for a time...until you find yourself alone or exclusively with other grenade launchers. Then, its not fun...its lonely and we become faced with the cost of our "grenading": relationships. You need to live a new, different, better story. Contribute in the construction of something beautiful. I can say, with authority, that, being created in the image of God, you were designed as a constructive agent of good...a maker-right of wrong things. Perhaps its time to begin living into your truer identity: the Beloved. Perhaps its time to follow Jesus onto paths yet untrod.
3. Neither #1 or #2 are possible outside of the inhabiting of the very Breath of God. Bring the thoughts of this email (yours and mine) to Him. Bring these thoughts to your core community. Let them speak into the deconstruction that God is doing with you. As they do, listen for His voice. Experience His presence within. Ask Him to awaken your imagination, to listen longer than feels comfortable, and for courage to live what you hear.
Here's what he wrote:
When we talked back in May, at one point I said that I was increasingly growing tired of being a critic and you told me that you had a similar sort of thought earlier in your life. The exact line you used was, "I've thrown enough grenades!" Over the course of the summer and the fall I am becoming more and more exhausted of my own critical nature.
Unfortunately after having invested so much of my identity into being a critic it's hard to try to change my mindset from destruction to construction.
So I wanted to know how the process of putting aside the grenades and learning how to build something, instead of just attacking everything, has looked for you.
Any insight you might have would be appreciated!
Here's how I interacted with his thoughts:
A couple of thoughts from a recovering Grenade Launcher:
1. Some things (perhaps most things) need to be questioned/deconstructed. It's likely that God has given you a critical eye for a just reason. It's in the way that we question/deconstruct that either results in destruction or construction. In my experience, its in the moments of humble curiosity and a true desire to be helpful rather than unconventional that construction results. It is when the end is my identity being reinforced as "unconventional" that things go awry.
To the "unconventional" thought...how much of your identity have you constructed around being the deconstructor / contrarian / grenader? The more infrastructure you have built into this identity, the more work/pain/challenge will be involved in its deconstruction. Do you see the beautiful irony here? Something actually needs to be "grenaded" in your own understanding of you.
2. Become the part of a solution. The challenge in the transition that you long for is that its actually easier to sit as the critical grenade launcher. This is your path of least resistance (that path worn into the wheat field of your existence -- Ephesians 4). It's fun...for a time...until you find yourself alone or exclusively with other grenade launchers. Then, its not fun...its lonely and we become faced with the cost of our "grenading": relationships. You need to live a new, different, better story. Contribute in the construction of something beautiful. I can say, with authority, that, being created in the image of God, you were designed as a constructive agent of good...a maker-right of wrong things. Perhaps its time to begin living into your truer identity: the Beloved. Perhaps its time to follow Jesus onto paths yet untrod.
3. Neither #1 or #2 are possible outside of the inhabiting of the very Breath of God. Bring the thoughts of this email (yours and mine) to Him. Bring these thoughts to your core community. Let them speak into the deconstruction that God is doing with you. As they do, listen for His voice. Experience His presence within. Ask Him to awaken your imagination, to listen longer than feels comfortable, and for courage to live what you hear.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
The Popsicle-Stained Neighbor
My family lives on Pepper Drive.
Pepper Drive is a unique place where God's Story is lived out in all sorts of beautifully bizarre, simple, common, and unconventional ways. Pepper Drive is one of the unique soils in which my family is formed.
I can remember our first visit to Pepper Drive. Two friends had recently purchased a home on the street and had invited Jaci and I to a house-warming party. A freeway to an exit to some side streets and up a hill we went turning at last from Garden onto Pepper.
"Just add Cucumber Circle, Tomato Blvd., and Crouton Court and these street names would make a great salad." I thought out loud as we veered toward the curb in front of our friends' home.
Over and over we made the journey to Pepper Drive. The frequency with which we returned meant that we started becoming friends with our friends' neighbors...Pepper Drive started to feel like home. One year later, Pepper Drive officially became our neighborhood.
Pepper Drive was hit especially hard during the real estate crisis. Like so many neighborhoods across the country, it seemed as though half of our street was vacant. Slowly, contractors bought the foreclosed homes, renovated them, and prepared to rent them.
Our dream has always been to live in close proximity with friends. We've often considered what it would be like to share resources and meals...what it would be like to intentionally share life with a few others. The dream became reality as, over time, we crossed the thresholds of the homes being renovated into friendships with the contractors. By the time a given house was ready to rent, Jaci would personally hand deliver the house to some of our friends and our friends to the contractors. In no time, there were seven homes filled with our friends...The Pepper Drive Community was born.
With 12-15 dynamic people (and a few great dogs) on Pepper, we began to explore some practices with each other. We figured that that many like-minded people in one neighborhood should cause the landscape to shift. Tangible differences should become palpable as, rather than focusing exclusively on being good neighbors to each other, we focus on being good neighbors to our entire neighborhood.
Three simple practices have emerged that have been helpful:
1. The stoop sit. Rather than sitting in our back or side yards, we are choosing to sit on our front stoop. As a result, we find ourselves far more available and present to our neighbors who are returning from work, going on runs/walks, doing lawn work, washing cars, and/or playing in the street. The stoop sit is creating frequent touch points with our neighbors that last anywhere from 5 minutes to an hour and, at times, end up around the table.
2. The shared table. Every Monday night, the Pepper Drive Community gathers around one of seven tables to eat, reconnect, tell stories and, from time to time, conspire tangible practices of love for the larger Pepper Drive. Periodically we find ourselves around the tables of other friends/neighbors and them around ours.
3. Shared Resources. Whether its vehicles, lawn equipment, food, or camping gear, our stuff is becoming "our" stuff. Eventually, we'd like to see this practice free our finances such that we can give it away in creative ways.
What I love most about Pepper Drive, though, is the frequency with which we find ourselves in the homes of others.
One night, as I was watching hockey in the living room of my next-door neighbors, I watched Jaci and Ava walk across the street and enter into the home of a different neighbor. 30 minutes passed and I hadn't seen them return. Knowing that our dinner was in the oven, I ran over to our house, switched the food out, and ran back to my friend's place for more hockey. As I walked in, I commented, "Sheesh...Jaci, Ava, and I are in everyone else's home but our own!"
Louisa, who has lived on Pepper far longer than the rest of us, said, "That's so cool." She continued, "Ever since you all moved onto Pepper, this neighborhood has gone vintage."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"This is becoming a neighborhood like it used to be...people becoming friends, friends becoming neighbors, neighbors becoming a family. As a matter of fact, I get excited when I turn onto Pepper because I love who I live among."
I was reminded of this conversation as Ava and I sat on our stoop this past Monday. Our artist friend and neighbor, Marcos, walked by with his two Chihuahuas and greeted us both by name. He's a brand new daddy of a beautiful baby girl and is getting some fresh exposure because of his unique style of art. I inquired about both worlds (daddy and artist) and he was thrilled to talk about each.
As we chatted, Ava, was eating the two-stick kind of red Popsicle. She had already broken the Popsicle in two and, therefore, had two leaking red Popsicles, one in each hand. As Marcos was preparing to move on, Ava reached out her right hand and offered one of her half-eaten, melting Popsicles to him.
"Thanks so much, Ava!" Marcos said with a wink at me. "Maybe next time."
"Okay!" Ava said nonchalantly.
"You're a good a neighbor, Ava." He responded as he walked away.
"Thanks!" Ava yelled.
My heart swelled a bit. I was proud of my little girl who had red stains streaking down her arms and well past her elbows.
After some time, as she continued to work on her Popsicle, she calmly asked, "What's a neighbor?"
"A neighbor is someone who offers her favorite flavored Popsicle to someone else." I said.
"I'm a neighbor?" she asked.
"Sure are!" I beamed.
In silence, she worked on her Popsicle a bit more.
"I'm a neighbor." she said to herself.
I looked over at her and she looked back. "I'm a neighbor!" she laughed.
Pepper Drive is a unique place where God's Story is lived out in all sorts of beautifully bizarre, simple, common, and unconventional ways. Pepper Drive is one of the unique soils in which my family is formed.
I can remember our first visit to Pepper Drive. Two friends had recently purchased a home on the street and had invited Jaci and I to a house-warming party. A freeway to an exit to some side streets and up a hill we went turning at last from Garden onto Pepper.
"Just add Cucumber Circle, Tomato Blvd., and Crouton Court and these street names would make a great salad." I thought out loud as we veered toward the curb in front of our friends' home.
Over and over we made the journey to Pepper Drive. The frequency with which we returned meant that we started becoming friends with our friends' neighbors...Pepper Drive started to feel like home. One year later, Pepper Drive officially became our neighborhood.
Pepper Drive was hit especially hard during the real estate crisis. Like so many neighborhoods across the country, it seemed as though half of our street was vacant. Slowly, contractors bought the foreclosed homes, renovated them, and prepared to rent them.
Our dream has always been to live in close proximity with friends. We've often considered what it would be like to share resources and meals...what it would be like to intentionally share life with a few others. The dream became reality as, over time, we crossed the thresholds of the homes being renovated into friendships with the contractors. By the time a given house was ready to rent, Jaci would personally hand deliver the house to some of our friends and our friends to the contractors. In no time, there were seven homes filled with our friends...The Pepper Drive Community was born.
With 12-15 dynamic people (and a few great dogs) on Pepper, we began to explore some practices with each other. We figured that that many like-minded people in one neighborhood should cause the landscape to shift. Tangible differences should become palpable as, rather than focusing exclusively on being good neighbors to each other, we focus on being good neighbors to our entire neighborhood.
Three simple practices have emerged that have been helpful:
1. The stoop sit. Rather than sitting in our back or side yards, we are choosing to sit on our front stoop. As a result, we find ourselves far more available and present to our neighbors who are returning from work, going on runs/walks, doing lawn work, washing cars, and/or playing in the street. The stoop sit is creating frequent touch points with our neighbors that last anywhere from 5 minutes to an hour and, at times, end up around the table.
2. The shared table. Every Monday night, the Pepper Drive Community gathers around one of seven tables to eat, reconnect, tell stories and, from time to time, conspire tangible practices of love for the larger Pepper Drive. Periodically we find ourselves around the tables of other friends/neighbors and them around ours.
3. Shared Resources. Whether its vehicles, lawn equipment, food, or camping gear, our stuff is becoming "our" stuff. Eventually, we'd like to see this practice free our finances such that we can give it away in creative ways.
What I love most about Pepper Drive, though, is the frequency with which we find ourselves in the homes of others.
One night, as I was watching hockey in the living room of my next-door neighbors, I watched Jaci and Ava walk across the street and enter into the home of a different neighbor. 30 minutes passed and I hadn't seen them return. Knowing that our dinner was in the oven, I ran over to our house, switched the food out, and ran back to my friend's place for more hockey. As I walked in, I commented, "Sheesh...Jaci, Ava, and I are in everyone else's home but our own!"
Louisa, who has lived on Pepper far longer than the rest of us, said, "That's so cool." She continued, "Ever since you all moved onto Pepper, this neighborhood has gone vintage."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"This is becoming a neighborhood like it used to be...people becoming friends, friends becoming neighbors, neighbors becoming a family. As a matter of fact, I get excited when I turn onto Pepper because I love who I live among."
I was reminded of this conversation as Ava and I sat on our stoop this past Monday. Our artist friend and neighbor, Marcos, walked by with his two Chihuahuas and greeted us both by name. He's a brand new daddy of a beautiful baby girl and is getting some fresh exposure because of his unique style of art. I inquired about both worlds (daddy and artist) and he was thrilled to talk about each.
As we chatted, Ava, was eating the two-stick kind of red Popsicle. She had already broken the Popsicle in two and, therefore, had two leaking red Popsicles, one in each hand. As Marcos was preparing to move on, Ava reached out her right hand and offered one of her half-eaten, melting Popsicles to him.
"Thanks so much, Ava!" Marcos said with a wink at me. "Maybe next time."
"Okay!" Ava said nonchalantly.
"You're a good a neighbor, Ava." He responded as he walked away.
"Thanks!" Ava yelled.
My heart swelled a bit. I was proud of my little girl who had red stains streaking down her arms and well past her elbows.
After some time, as she continued to work on her Popsicle, she calmly asked, "What's a neighbor?"
"A neighbor is someone who offers her favorite flavored Popsicle to someone else." I said.
"I'm a neighbor?" she asked.
"Sure are!" I beamed.
In silence, she worked on her Popsicle a bit more.
"I'm a neighbor." she said to herself.
I looked over at her and she looked back. "I'm a neighbor!" she laughed.
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