I’ve been re-reading Blue Like Jazz for the past week because…
1) It’s weird to recommend books (or movies or music or anything, really) when I don’t remember much of it. I read Don Miller’s book when I first arrived in Dallas almost two years ago and it changed my thought process a little, in a good way. I can’t even tell you why anymore. But, I still recommend the book so I might as well refresh the ol’ peanut memory.
2) I’m hitting up Portland, Oregon soon - this city that Miller writes so fondly about. I like to say it’s a “magical” place although I’m sure no Oregonian would describe it in that way. It’s Miller’s fault that I’m in love with a place I’ve never been to before. Oregon should hire Miller to whip up an advertising campaign to encourage people to visit. I’ve been writing down places he mentions in hopes that I can visit these places and say, “Hey! Don Miller was here!”
Anyway, all that was not the point of this post. The point is that I’ve been reading the book for those two purposes… but I think God used it to remind about something. Last night, I ended on the chapter titled, “Alone.” Miller is big on community which lines up with the pastors I listen to, and shoo, Jesus kinda liked crowds too, yeah? Even I shoot my mouth off about community, probably because of all of the aforementioned people said it’s a good thing. And my brain agrees.
Miller writes: Rick [edit: Imago Dei Community pastor, Portland, OR] told me, a little later, I should be living in community. He said I should have people around bugging me and getting under my skin because without people I could not grow - I could not grow in God, and I could not grow as a human. We are born into families, he said, and we are needy at first as children because God wants us together, living among one another, not hiding ourselves under logs like fungus. You are not a fungus, he told me, you are a human, and you need other people in your life in order to be healthy.
I read this last night and felt that twinge. Like, “Oh man, I’m not doing this right.” I harp on people about community, but when it comes down to it, my whole body revolts because shoo, community is hard. Community is hard because it’s a synonym for “a whole bunch of sinners, living life together” and that can get ugly. People are different - they are strange, awkward, loud, quiet, obnoxious, paranoid, messy, stressed, stressful, and have the power to hurt you.
I’ve been living by myself in Dallas for almost two years. I understand the crazy thoughts Miller admits in the chapter, “Alone.” Living by yourself definitely has perks — your mess is your mess, the TV is always on the channel I want it to be on, and I’m on my time. I don’t doubt this has socially stunted me though. It’s put me in a very “me-centered” state-of-mind all the time and I’ve become very selfish with my time at home. I’m not dissing time alone at all because that is definitely needed, as Jesus even found time regularly to be alone and with the Father. But I think living in community forces you into thinking about others more than self.
Long story short, I went to bed with that on my mind last night. Then tonight, someone asked me if I’d be interested in moving into her house.
Weird.
I’m not sure if that’s going to go anywhere, but right now, I’ll take it as a reminder from God that I need to stop paying market price for my single bedroom apartment, and go forth and face some fears.
Tomorrow my bro flies in and we’ll be enjoying some John Mayer and Ben Folds action. It’ll be a busy weekend, so keep it cool, cats.
