another hour at the table

We sat at the table much longer than we thought we would last night...lingering over pizza and salad with friends, even as six boys (three of ours, three of theirs) ran through house in all their chaotic glory.

Somewhere around 9pm, I muttered something about getting our boys home and in bed. This, of course, was a ruse. It had nothing to do with the boys. My alarm goes off at 4:50am, so I was more concerned with myself than our guys....but still. An hour passed in a minute, and we were still talking. Still laughing. Still asking "how can we pray for you guys?"

It was good. No, it was great. It was great to completely lose an hour in the company of people who know us, who honestly do give a rip, and - even though we may not spend every other Tuesday night in their living room bowing to the idol of Intentional Christian Community - would go to the mat for us in a heartbeat, as would we for them.

I'm revamping my thoughts on community. I think this makes the fourth rendition in as many years. Right now, it feels like community is being almost fully understood (I don't think any of us are entirely understood by another human trapped in the time/space web as are). Community feels like being understood to the point where one can mutter a verbal shorthand and still communicate. Community feels like not having to tell the whole story if you don't have the energy. Community feels like spending the extra hour with the pizza boxes betwixt us, laughing loudly over the roar of the children....& going home feeling known.

It feels like an extra hour well-spent.