FINDING (UN)INTENTIONAL COMMUNITIES: REFLECTIONS ON THE GIFTS OF THE SPIRIT FROM A SOUL-WRITER

I wish I had the strength to write as feverishly as my mind bids me to. However, I simply cannot. No other force compels me to write but my soul. I am a soul-writer—one moved by a raw, arousing energy and an overwhelming inner urge to flirt with words, refine ideas, entertain rich rhetorical refinement and re-create a reflection of all that is with(in) and around me. Every so often, my soul injects small doses of inspiration into my consciousness; my fingers follow the impulses of my mind—the commands from soul—without choice.

I live for the engaged presence and promise of my soul (my core self), for with it comes sobering revelations about reality, the passion to write, and the courage to just be. Today, I want to spotlight the favor of Divinity afforded me throughout this journey. It’s my soul’s order. Thanks to the Almighty, I am being restored to my right mind, renewed by spirited laughter and called to (un)intentional communities endowed with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, control, faithfulness and more. (Un)intentional community is a gift I have longed for, and I am grateful that I have found it, thrice!

Without a doubt, I am the beneficiary of constant cosmic companionship. There is an angel dispatched by the Almighty to watch over my soul and guide my feet. Who else can I credit for providing kind Ethiopian neighbors to feed me when my host got arrested for an alleged robbery? To whom do I offer my gratitude when locals invite me to sleep on their floors and couches, to sip on freshly brewed Ethiopian coffee, to chew on injera and shoro, when all my money, food and clothes were locked in my arrested colleague’s room and police restricted access my possessions? To what other force should I offer thanks for providing me with a dear friend and seminarian who welcomed me into his home, free of charge, and constantly reminded me that all he and his wife wanted was my friendship? Mezgebu and Meme moved me to tears frequently because of their kindness, openness and sincerity. Never in my life had I felt so deeply connected to a family outside of my own home.
I accidentally found spiritual kinship with this family because I told an Ethiopian barber that I was interested in a justice-oriented theology, and in turn, he invited me to meet his mother, Modda, his sister, Meme and brother-in-law, Mezgebu. They treated me as if I were their own and in time I became just that. What a blessing they were (and continue to be) to my soul. Because of them I can now say that I know what it is to be loved for all that is (in) me: good, bad, and otherwise. And indeed, community clothes us with a deeper awareness of self and others.
Thanks are also due to the Spirit of Truth for endowing me with the courage to walk to a local church in search of a family upon arriving in Kigali, Rwanda, while my bags were left in Nairobi, Kenya. Let me explain. A lawyer and internet-friend, Bosco, met me at the airport and dropped me off at a costly hostel; he had to go to the rural areas to work on genocide cases the following day. As a result, I was left stranded with practically no way of navigating the city. I awoke at daybreak the next day, walked to a local church, introduced myself, and found a family willing to host me. In their presence, I felt at peace. They valued me, and I, them. We moved from being strangers to friends with intentional, valued relationships—the result of which is (be)loved community.
I’ve also come to learn that I don’t need to be near my family to be with my family. Our connection is deeply spiritual. For some unusual reason, I have dreams of all that is going wrong in my family in Jamaica and the US long before my relatives tell me. When in Guatemala, I had a dream that my father met in a car accident and that the car was totaled; so said, so done. I dreamt that someone was ill in the family and when I called my mother in fear, she said all was well. I beseeched her to call Jamaica and when she did, my sister told her that she was on her way the hospital because my nephew was bleeding internally. My spirit grew troubled one night when in my sleep I witnessed dark spirit of infidelity in my family. The next morning when I called my mother, she told that one of my brothers cheated on his girlfriend with a woman from my church(!) who is now pregnant. I could go on and on, for the spiritual encounters are too many to recount. What I know and now believe is that community is not limited by proximity. Kindred spirits gather and converse in the cosmos by divine will.

In Ethiopia, Rwanda and the spirit world, I have found fruitful camaraderie and sweet fellowship. My experiences in these domains have deepened my appreciation for all people, strengthened my desire to nurture the meaningful relationships I have, and pushed me to exchange fear for a generous hope. The world over, people crave community, friendship and reciprocity. May you receive it, and give it. Join me, dear loved ones, in contemplative prayers of thanksgiving as I celebrate community and the soul.

Blessings,
jr