Building True Connections
Twenty-twenty was an incredibly lonely year for many people. The COVID-19 pandemic left us stranded in our homes, using virtual tools as a substitute for human connection. While technology has been an invaluable resource to help bridge the gap over the last year, it has also proven to be a poor replacement for true connection.
Recently, as I mused over our longing for connection and true friendship, I ran across a friend’s Facebook post where she shared her family’s mission statement: “There is always room. It means that we always have a bed, a couch, a seat at the table, an ear to listen, or arms to hold you tight, if you need it.”
This statement encompasses so much of our family’s value system, from Friday night pizza nights, where anyone and everyone is invited, to the ever-ready guest bed for foster placements and friends and family near and far. One of the most deeply held values in our home is creating space for belonging.
Last July, I had a baby. During the nine months I was pregnant, about fifteen of our close friends were also pregnant or having babies. It was such a fun experience to share pregnancy stories and fawn over each other’s baby photos. In March, about halfway through my pregnancy, a friend started a group Facebook message between four mamas. In that thread, we talked about pregnancy, babies, motherhood, and childbirth. We started with simple chats about what to pack in a hospital bag and how to make lactation bites, but months later found ourselves discussing the difficulties of marriage and faith and the intense details of labor and postpartum depression. These days, we have a real Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants vibe.
Recently, I spent the evening with those mamas in a room full of our babies, packing up gifts for a single mama who has no support system staying with a friend of mine. These friends showered this stranger with all the goodies she and her baby will need. Watching their generosity was a gift to my soul. Before we got together, I texted them that my house and I were a hot mess so to feel free to “come as you are, hot mess and all.” I pulled snacks out of our pantry and called it a charcuterie board. We passed around screaming babies, talked about sleepless nights, and enjoyed the crazy together. At the end of the night, we took a photo together with our greasy hair, sleepy babies, and yoga pants. As I went to post that photo on social media, it struck me how many times I’d seen a similar post and longed to be a part of a group of friends like that. We long for these relationships, but when we finally obtain them we fail to realize the gift they are.
Author Brené Brown puts it this way: “True belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world.”
We are made for connection. From the beginning of time, God has set his people with partners, acknowledging that “it is not good for man to be alone” (Genesis 2:18 NIV).
In January, I wrote the following as a resolution of sorts:
What if the best way to remember our Savior, born at a time when there was no room at the inn, is to make sure we always have room—at our tables, in our friendships, in our homes? Let’s be generous with our invites in 2021. Let’s be people who say, “We always have room.”
May feels like a good halfway point to check in on this goal.
So how do we make belonging a practice in our homes, how do we ensure we always have room? I’ve got a few suggestions.
- Let go of non-essentials. Let people truly come as they are, and offer yourself and your home honestly and authentically. Offer peace, not perfection. People want to live alongside you more than they want to look up to you. Your home doesn’t need to be perfect; your doors just need to be open.
- Make it practically easy on yourself. I’m talking an ever-ready guest room that isn’t the dumping ground for storage. It’s easier to say yes when the bed is made and the room is empty. Paper plates are one of my favorite ministry tools. When I’m tired, I’m more likely to say yes if it doesn’t require dishes. Cute baskets can hide an abundance of clutter in a last-minute tidy-up session.
- Think about what you already have on your calendar. You don’t need to change your schedule or plan massive parties to invite the neighbors for Sunday dinner. Going to the park? Ask a mama you don’t know well to tag along. Have rhythms in your family that are consistent, and have an open invite. Inviting is easy when your spouse and kids know Sunday dinner is always at six and always open invite.
- Prepare for the noes. People say no for a multitude of reasons. They might legitimately be busy. They might be having a hard season. They may be afraid to take a risk and form a new friendship. Don’t let a no discourage you. Keep extending the invite.
is a sassy, Southern coffee lover who spends most of her days with a classroom full of little people. Hannah loves serving in the local church where her husband is an associate minister. She is passionate about gathering her people around the table over good food and even better conversation. Hannah blogs at thissweetlybrokenlife.com.
Photograph © Cristina Serí, used with permission
