As Leah and I were playing outside the other day, one of my neighbors walked to his mailbox. I waved a friendly wave at him, and he waved back; as he turned to head back inside, though, I felt a pang of conviction.
I have lived across the street from him for nearly 5 years, but I do not know him. His name is Ray, and he had cancer a few years ago that forced him to retire. He’s in remission now. Has a daughter named Sarah and a son named Matt and a tiny black dog that is, apparently, nocturnal. That much I do know.
But do I know him?
And my other neighbors? William, who had a heart attack a few months ago? Or Trish, his wife, who had breast cancer but is now okay? What about Jim and Cheryl? Mitchell and Jessica?
I live next to these people. I know their cars when they pass, and we wave if we all happen to be outside at the same time. A few of them have given Leah gifts, and some have brought us cookies at Christmastime.
What have I done? Nothing. I know more about the people whose conversations I overhear in a restaurant than I do about these people who live their lives alongside mine on a daily basis.
That’s sad.
5 of your thoughts:
we're all guilty of this. The days of neighborhood get-togethers and BBQ is long gone. Being home now, I often think about this very thing, watching them come and go. But I haven't done anything about it. Maybe I will now that you have brought it to the front of my attention.
Yes, we need to be more proactive about this, too! We have been studying this in our small group from church. We really need to do this better.
Oh, girl, me too.
BTW--did you want those lambs for Leah? I wasn't sure if you were saying, "yes" or just "cute idea."
We just bought our first home last May and in our new neighborhood, we only know one other couple. I wish we knew them all better, but I'm not sure where to start.
I realized a few years ago that my garage door opener had changed my life. And not for good. I just drive from the street, straight into my garage and walk into my house. No chatting with my neighbors over the fence, or stopping to catch a stray basketball from the kids shooting hoops nearby. When we moved into our new neighborhood, I kept waiting for my neighbors to come and say "Hi," but they've got garage door openers, too. So...I decided it was up to me, and I started hosted neighborhood parties. Cookie parties over the holidays, cook-outs and fireworks in the summer. Now THAT has changed my life. For the good.
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