shalom

I'm munching on almonds and raisins for lunch as I write - part of my latest attempt to fuel my body with more "whole" foods. The concept of "whole" has captured me this week. "Whole" foods. "Whole" skincare. "Whole" people. The "whole" story.

Let's be honest, no one likes to send ill news home; so I simply don't. I make it a practice of not broadcasting my struggles living in the house.

I censor.

But the theme of my week is wholeness; so here we are.


It's always difficult returning home after going away for a weekend, be it for business or pleasure. Don't misread, I love coming back to the physical place of home. Less welcomed is the wave of daily life stressors held at bay during my absence that comes rolling at me like the ocean before a hurricane.


"Two houses down a lady was taken at gunpoint and raped in an abandoned garage. It's happened several times in the neighborhood this week."

Welcome home.

I like to think of myself as a pretty bold little camper. I'm not overly fearful, except when it comes to spiders, cave crickets and parasites.

And, apparently, serial rapists.

Truly, fear of man does not come from God. But it still comes.

Last night, I drove around town just on the outskirts of our end of the city for twenty minutes until I was certain Ben would be home from work to walk me into the house. "What a wuss..." I mumbled to myself.

(Negative self-talk is an issue too, since we're telling the whole story)

Today, I needed to go to the pharmacy down the street. My stomach knotted up at the thought of the quick jaunt to and from my car that this would require. Midmorning nightmares flashed up their horrible "what if?" images on the silver screen of my fear-ridden mind. So I resolved I would just wait and go to the pharmacy tomorrow, when Ben could go too. That was, until a neighbor knocked on our door.

She was sick and needed a ride to the bank and then to the pharmacy. Compassion won out over fear, and calling conquered common sense.

As I waited in the car at the bank I found myself considering how essential my neighbor was to me, a new thought for sure. I moved here because I wanted to help people, but today, I found myself being helped. Too afraid to venture to the pharmacy alone, the person I moved here to serve lifted me up and walked into the store with me.

Shalom.

Wholeness in the neighborhood. I need the people around me just as much as my own self-righteous heart would like to think they need me.

It means peace.

It's this idea of wholeness that the Jewish people understood to be something that emerged from living and working together, and being real with each other.

It's being okay with fearing more than just cave crickets and parasites, because together we can make it through anything.

Shalom.