Re-Entry Reflections: Community Is Essential

I cried when my 8th grade basketball season ended.

I wasn’t any good. I fouled out of most games, was never allowed to shoot because of my poor aim, and I was the slowest runner on the team (Now that I think about it, I’m usually the slowest runner in any group setting). Nevertheless, I was put on the team anyway since I towered a head above 99% of my mostly Asian classmates (Apparently 5′ 7″ is freakishly tall for most Asian women). I remember my coach’s instructions for most of my short-lived basketball career was, “Just put your hands up and block the ball.”

I’ve always been terrible when it comes to sports. I was always second to last at cross country meets in high school (A group of freshmen/sophomore varsity runners once said to me in my senior year, “We think it’s great that you keep coming out to cross country despite your lack of athleticism.” No offense was taken as it was a true statement), my first season as a triple & long jumper for track & field I didn’t even make it into the sand pit until the very last meet of the season (Which I later wrote my college entrance essay about. Cha-ching! Perseverance pays off, y’all).

But I kept coming out to group sports after that first basketball season, because I was hooked on something so great it superseded the continual humiliation I faced at athletics: community.

I love community living. I love consistently seeing the same people day in and day out, sharing each others’ victories and trials, being in each others’ spaces and faces, obnoxiously laughing until hyperventilation sets in. I love the encouragement in community when you’re working towards a common goal. I even love conflict resolution because it means there’s more intimacy on the other side.

A common struggle for Racers fresh off the field is where to find solid, supportive community. You’ve been in community overload for 11 months, and finally . . . you’re alone. I remember the first time I had a funny bathroom story being back in the States and feeling so lost because I had no one to tell (nevermind American societal norms). I lived with my parents for two months after the Race because I thought that’s what ‘resting’ looked like, but I had few peers in my hometown of San Jose. So I read a lot of Christian books, I threw out decades of ‘stuff’ that had accumulated in my house, I cleaned excessively, I remodeled my childhood bedroom . . . and I got depressed. My parents are rad, awesome people, but they’re not my peers. I loved hanging with my few friends I had in town but a few coffee dates a week don’t make up for the hours of alone time.

A series of God-ordained events (call it luck or chance if you want, but I’m past that point now) then happened to get me into a Berkeley, living with women from my church, working for my pastors, and steeped back into the community culture I so dearly missed. Not all my problems were fixed, but I was given a space to safely work out all my post-Race issues and wrestle with God when necessary. There have been countless times when my community has rallied around me to pray for me when I had no more faith left, to encourage me when circumstances seemed bleak, to rebuke me lovingly when I was entangled in foolishness, and to laugh and cry with me at all the ups and downs of life.

Being plugged into the local church movement is so necessary, regardless of how many things you do or don’t agree with, whether or not you have things in common with the members. Community is life-giving, and it’s a reflection of how God created us for relationship, firstly with Him, secondly with His people.

There’s times I freak out when I think about how I still have no life plan (been resting, per God’s orders) and that I’m dipping into my savings to cover my bills; and yet I know that community is worth it. Being with the Ark (my church) has kept me emotionally and spiritually grounded, and given me spiritual covering. And while I don’t know how long I’ll be here or what the next steps are, I know that these people are my teammates in the race towards the Kingdom and will be there to cheer me on, even if I finish second to last.