Community Call

It was small-town America in the 1970’s and 80’s. Basketball and softball games, parties, church gatherings, neighborhood garage sales, bonfires, and face-to-face fun! There was even a time when home visits were scheduled to meet neighbors (gasp!)! Some of us would even Christmas carol during the holidays. Halloween included the whole town, not just one “safe” neighborhood. Everyone knew everyone and everything. A tiny Main Street, a small school, a hometown grocer, a bank, gas stations, and many steeples. The bookmobile even visited in the summer (an idea I had—bring back the mobile bookstore in an RV—The “Roaming Reader”). My community was small, and I still love it.

Growing up in a small community had its advantages. It was tight-knit, similar in people and experiences, and unique to its culture. Shared experiences, good or bad, can bring a community together. They can also separate them. Communities have cliques. Communities aren’t perfect. We’re human-so how can they be? The community from which I recently moved was “made up” of several tiny towns. Before that, a campfire was a central meeting spot to create community at the campground I lived and worked! Do you enjoy your community? Do you feel a sense of community where you live?

Cultivating a cooperative community requires miracles effort. Do we even desire community? Or would we rather keep to ourselves?

Recently, I checked on my near 87 year old neighbor, and retired pastor, Edward. His first words to me were, “Why am I still here?” At his VA check-up he was asked, “Do you ever feel like not being here?” “Of course!,” he replied to the nurse; who looked strangely at him. “Shouldn’t every Christian feel that way?” He told me she laughed in understanding. Edward DOESN’T want to die…he just knows what’s waiting. And he’s lonely. My neighbor to the right of me, Ms. Pat, is so lovely. Across the street is a precious young family (reminds me of my own sons and their families). To the left, another incredible small family. There are several singles, like me, living among the neighborhood. Another neighbor and his wife invited me to church. Generally, we all wave, close our garage doors, and slip into our homes.

Could we start an infection of kind invitations? What if we looked outside of ourselves to SEE others. Yes, it’s hard. It’s not easy to LOVE or even less, just to LIKE (unless you tap it on a screen). Maybe being alone is safer? Or maybe your safety is being only with those who look, think, say, and feel as you.

If we don’t share the same values, beliefs, and experiences, we may not get together for personal coffee chats often. I’ve had situations in which I “morphed” into someone I don’t know. Faith-grown maturity halted that. At my very CORE is a love for God. At your core, who are you? What do you believe? Even if we don’t agree, I will try very hard to show love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (I want to be VERY FRUITY-Galations 5:22). YOU and I are STILL valued as community members; or should be. A community can’t be created without communication. Certainly, Facebook, Instagram, or other social media outlets are a form of community—there are reasons why I prefer face-to-face. The community in which I’m writing about is not about whether one is married or single. I’m talking about the DESIRE to contribute to the human race. Ironically, many goals and visions of schools in my past included, “To become a productive member of society” (now, let’s add, “ …by working remotely from home, 90% on my device, to develop authentic and long-lasting relationships?) I’m not trying to sound cheeky. It’s my observations.

Why is this on my mind? Last week a dear friend and I had a conversation about this very topic (and our shared “longing” for the mountains). It wasn’t a “coincidence” that community had been on both of our hearts. Both of us have experienced a community campground that is near and dear to our hearts. Two days later I was commenting on a blog post about community. So WHERE do we create community? At our workplace? In a church? At a campground? In our homes?

Workplaces offer unique situations; we don’t CHOOSE who we work around (or most of us don’t). What can WE do to create a sense of community? How do we stop the spread of indifference, unconcern, coldness, insensitivity, passivity, detachment, and boredom? Can we provide a booster shot of care, concern, sensitivity, warmth, passion, interest,…and LOVE? Could we prevent cynicism? Many might criticize modern-day churches due to mixed messages or politics (because we can’t have life without politics, correct?). There are many things I may not agree with in organized religion, but I don’t discredit people, with shared values and beliefs, operating and living with the truth and GOODNESS of God. My truth may not match what you believe to be true. I will listen to yours. Let’s have a dialogue and conversation. You’d also like to talk about a new show you’re watching? I will try to find interest; listen and relate the best I can! Families? Grandkids? Nature? Or history? I’m all about that! Do you know Jesus? I’m really all about him, too.

Last weekend I watched a movie titled, “Land”. After experiencing an unthinkable tragedy, a woman secluded herself in the mountains of Montana. She had no desire to be around humans. The actress, fishing in her flannel, was surrounded by stunning scenery. For many reasons, I could relate. Mountains and the river were her community; then another human came along at just the right time (it helped that they both communicated well with one another after TIME). It’s easy for me to want to seclude myself. It’s easy to be a loner (especially when facing health challenges). After learning to love myself, being alone wasn’t a bother. It can be inconvenient, yes, it can be lonely at times,…but God reminds me I’m NEVER alone. HE COMMUNICATES BEAUTIFULLY.

Heavenly Father, you got me right in the heart, right on time. 💚

Tragedies are occurring daily; friends close to me are living with the unthinkable. Can we reach out? Can we help create a compassionate community? Can we cause a crumbling of comparison and callousness? Will we nurture neighborly? Can we extend an invitation? I’m so thankful for the communities in which I’ve lived, the relationships I’ve had and have now, and the ones I’m left to cultivate during my time here. It’s a bit tricky, given my current health journey, but I can STILL be better at community (my doctor’s office is its own little community filled with amazing humans!). No matter what, surrounded by a loving community or alone, you are loved. 💚

Have faith 💛


 

“And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.” Hebrews 10:24-25

Community Call:

Friends (some of you I’ve known my entire life and others for a few days, weeks, months, and years), I’m so thankful for you and our community here. It’s such an authentic and heartwarming place! To keep my creative side growing, I’ve designed 3 logos for Flannel with Faith. I’d love to take a “community” vote on your favorite one. Feel free to join in and choose your favorite! Thank you for being such a collaborative and considerate community. 💕 Your friends, Karla & Finn



 

 

 

 

 

 

Some Things Just Stick

Some things stick better than others. Words, ideas, plans, goals, intentions, and yes, even gum. After a full morning of communications and a visit from a sweet friend I couldn’t wait to get outside and enjoy the UNSEASONABLY low-humidity-perfect-sun-shiny-day here in rural SW MO. It was time to decompress. Birds were chirping and my groundhog friend, Chuck, had just slipped into his home for a noon nap. I soon realized I needed to buy a birthday card for my oldest grandson. I’m a free bird! The Dollar store is one minute away. Watch me go!

Seeing an old friend added more sunshine!

“Where are your sons now, Karla?”

“What about your sons, Bobby?”

The small talk swiftly became significant when he asked how I was doing. Gulp. “I’m doing fantastic because I’m here, Bobby!”  As I waved goodbye at my car door, I knew I had stepped in it (not the same thing I stepped in a few days ago in my yard 😉). Oh boy. Its pliability is applaudable if you’re a kid yearning to string it out of your mouth about 2 feet. Worse? Low humidity didn’t make the pavement much cooler. Thank goodness I now tote around shop cloths along with all my new “normal” things I pack when I head out into the “real” world (extra food, blood glucose monitor, first aid kit, Holy Water, …you know). What do you do? I choose to laugh. Immediately my mind went to traveling from the elementary school to the H.S. cafeteria-sitting at tables I was sure Mom and Dad used when they attended the same high school-and NEVER touching the UNDERSIDE of the table. Laughing I thought of all the gum rules that have “stuck” with me nearly all my life! As I type my Birks are perched on ice-filled Ziploc bags. My peanut butter is too expensive to waste on soles.

What has really stuck today is simply this: goodness. Sticking to what I know I must do to be my best in this fight for my life is essential. It’s going to put me in some sticky situations. It’s not always easy sticking to plans. Things I sought to solidly adhere to haven’t always stuck like I thought. My flexibility has flourished and I know to place myself on ice to quickly remove that which SHOULDN’T stick.

Within the last hour and ½ of typing this three young men, ages 9-13, stopped by to see if they could help me with yard work and make some money. Hesitantly, I shared a bit of my story and ways that they COULD help me in the future. I gave them a copy of my children’s book. One turned to me while they were leaving, “I’ll pray for you tonight!” They’re excited to return to see Finley and the groundhog, Chuck.

My doorbell rang within 10 minutes of the boys’ exit. Standing at my door were two young men (former students) and neighbors with big smiles. They were holding a card and a copy of my book; the cover was obviously…eaten. The dog loved it! Their Dad wanted to purchase two more books for their aunt. Let’s just say they PAID TOO MUCH for the books. With tears in my eyes, we took a pic and hugged each other. “We’re all praying for you!” Gulp. Tears.

Within 10 minutes of sitting back down to continue this post my neighbor Joe called. “Karla, Ashley, and I are taking the kids on vacation and have TOO MANY eggs. Can I bring them to you?”

“Is this really happening, God? Your stardom is sticking it to me! 🤍 YOU make the plans, I don’t!” (Keep in mind that I had shared with family members how I’m protecting my peace today–I know that peace comes in progressive promotions of praise, too!).

Finley races to the door and Joe is holding a bag filled with organic eggs (one of which was “freshly delivered 20 minutes prior!)! He prayed with me. We laughed about his hilarious animal shirt and bragged about the goodness of God. Even in sticky situations.

What have I learned the most in my near-52-YOUNG-years? If I stick to the stale, I’ll start to stink. BUT if I adhere to the assurance of authenticity and actuality (that there IS GOOD in the world and GOD IS GOOD) I’ll remain GLUED to the glimpse and glare of God’s GLOW.

Maybe today your plans shifted. They didn’t stick. Your car broke down, you lost a loved one, a diagnosis was made, your relationship is rocky, anxiety is assaulting your accountability, your children are ill, life seems too crazy, finances aren’t good, you expected to feel good…and the list goes on.

 I plan to stick around for as long as I can. I’ll stick by you. Let’s stick together.🤍

“When we hear the music around us can’t we all strive to strike a common chord? Because the underlying melody in all of us can be beautiful. Amidst the clanging of communication, the ringing of the rhetoric, the muddling of the meaning, and the music of mockery, may we choose to listen and use our voices for civility. Let’s create a symphony of solidarity.” -K.L. Hale (written on June 3, 2020)


“Have You Heard of NETs Yet?”-my journey update 🤍

There are challenges and I’m meeting them head-on. Where would I be with faith, family, friends, and Finley? THANK YOU! For the most part I’m adjusting well. Life is so different. Round 2 of chemo begins this Friday after blood labs and an oncologist visit. In the upcoming 14 days of chemo I have NO CHOICE but to adhere to the alarms beeping reminding me when to eat, drink more water, eat a snack, take the pills, etc.…It’s complicated. Minimal distractions are necessary. I hope words don’t leave me, but if they do, I know they’ll return. My eyes are blurrier than normal and too much technology makes it worse. My spiritual and mental self are strong. Physically I’ve lost muscle mass I used to have (it doesn’t take long to lose it!) and fatigue can hit fast. I’m diabetic and my glucose readings are wonky to say the least! This cancer is rare (like a zebra). There’s been misinformation. I’d like to say I have the “good” cancer; however, this didn’t get caught before it metastasized. I can’t blame the doctors for the diagnosis. An earlier C.T. screening probably would’ve detected this. Specifically, if you have I.B.S. or bladder/bowel issues, signs of diverticulitis, colitis, or other GI issues, women: if they mistake it for menopause or digestive issues, …if you know IN YOUR GUT something isn’t right, please insist on screening. There’s a back story to my back story of how my health challenges in the past all make more sense now. Perhaps I’ve had these several years? We don’t know, but I can reflect on major changes in my health. And why beginning this blog and protecting my peace became essential for me to have a healthy life. I smile staring at the pictures scrolling on the Aura frame my sons and families bought me. A former administrator once asked me what made me so positive. “If a doctor told me I had 9 months to live, what would I TRULY have to worry about?” Many of the teachers that follow me would know this as my death-bed test. It’s not sad. It’s the truth. The good emotions (memories, laughter, and yes, tears at times) are wonderful. BUT I have to live by truth-not tragedy. God has a plan for each of us. NONE of us are guaranteed another day. In one of my favorite mini-series of all time, Lonesome Dove, Augustus (Gus) said, “I doubt it don’t matter where you die, but it matters where you live.” And, “Yesterday’s gone, we can’t get it back!” How about, “It’s not dyin’ I’m talkin’ about, it’s livin’!” And the best truth of all? “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life.” –John 3:16. 🤍

You’re loved. I’m loved. Can you find the faith? 💚

P.S. If you step in gum will this story stick to you? 🤗

Restoration

“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”

― C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

With Finley in my arms I walked to the neighbor’s house. Seeing their Class C motorhome excited me when I first moved in. Having explorers as neighbors is right up my alley! A cute dog (whom I’ve seen checking out my yard many times) was looking out the bay window. A beautiful tall lady comes to the door. Her name is Sara.

“My name is Karla; I’m your neighbor. This is my dog Finley.”

“I’m sorry we haven’t been over to meet you. We both had Covid as soon as you moved in.”

“I completely understand! Are you both better?”

And so we sat together. Finley, being curious as a cat ;-), walked around to investigate. Their sweet dog was in the kennel (I’m certain she and Finley’s friendship will bud with our trees in the spring).

Vern, Sara’s husband, shared interesting facts about them. The light and joy in both of them bubbled me up a bit more. Having spent 3 years on the road they chose to settle in our little town after health issues crept in a bit. We shared exciting stories of travel and of course, family.

Vern shared all about the little house I bought. “Would you like to come and see it?” We sat in my living room to visit more and concluded with shared sentiments. My home restoration turned out beautifully and we’re all happy to be neighbors and new friends.

My little house in my little town is home. And as I sit today with new writing goals (and a wonderful new coaching author/ publisher, Lisa) I have an overwhelming spirit of hope. I’m reminded of how restoration didn’t solely occur for my house; it happened in my soul.

My foundation is good. My walls have crumbled, floors caved in, and windows broken. Using the wrong tools, I’d try to rebuild. The material was all wrong. Each time I relied on the wrong general contractor. “This time it will be perfect! I’ll withstand any wind and storm and provide a place of comfort where I can be what God designed me to be!” Confidence was shattered and I felt I couldn’t do things alone. And the minute the house was empty, so was hope for true restoration. It felt like rejection each time. And so, like dressing a pig as they say in these parts, I’d find a way to build confidence and feel accepted. Slap some new paint and throw in some pictures-it would be perfect. And I’d use the wrong materials; I’d damage my own dwelling and disintegrate the diggings. For I only felt needed to provide for others. My abode felt abandoned.

Standing alone is never easy. If there are two, side by side, people seem to think you’re stronger or better. And so, tiny was my perfect life, and solo became my greatest strength. In it, I found the epitome of my existence. Quietly I’ve sought truth. In my small life I’ve never stopped dreaming. The days of my own childhood and motherhood no longer exist; but linger as the beautiful aroma that daily diffuses my dwelling and I’m gripped as a grandma. My own faith is deepened from the miracles I’ve experienced. My values, which have been my core, co-exist with my movements. There’s no need to make a home in a place undesigned for me.

Perhaps 2020 guided my grit to gridlock my goals. I’ve always had hope in a humanity without hate; and a fair shake for restoration for all. My life is quiet with music and words. And loud with love of God, family, friends, and of course, nature. There’s a knocking on my heart and front door. “Come in,” I say to my true General Contractor.

I’ve been restored.

Have faith💚