The thing about spring
Sometimes life together is just hard.
The thing about spring is that while we eagerly and keenly welcome it--with all it's glorious freedom, warmth, and new life--we still know and are tied to winter. From bison-sized potholes; to soggy basements; to a few more unfortunate flurries, the remnants of a cold, long, desolate season continue to shadow us. Such as it is in community. We are deepening and broadening our love for each other and this neighbourhood but sometimes it is hard--we, too, are living in the aftermath of a long winter.
Flatlanders Inn is the beautiful and messy blend of transitional housing and intentional community. We recognize the tension of wanting to welcome people warmly and extravagantly, and wanting to be energized, safe, protected, with a sense of order. Receiving people into our home sometimes means that our possessions, entitlement, and space becomes seemingly superfluous. Living with others sometimes means that individual and communal places of brokenness, hurt, and distrust are exposed. And then we wonder, what do we do when life together is costly? when our stuff, time, and space is taken? when our heart's are heavy and sore with loss and we don't know how to hold it, let alone with other people?
These are the questions we have been navigating and processing at Flatlanders Inn. We haven't come to any conclusions, other than that we are still committed to welcoming, holding hope, being relationally intentional, and loving each other and our neighbourhood over and over and over again. And we are committed to these things because we believe this is the way to healing and kingdom-community.
Authentic community is as mucky, unpredictable, and long-coming spring, but it sure is a lovely thing to behold.