
Bless the medicine makers and the bringers of juice and lemonade to those who are sick #bless #whakamoemiti #adventwords2019

Bless the medicine makers and the bringers of juice and lemonade to those who are sick #bless #whakamoemiti #adventwords2019

This morning I knelt at the vegie patch, claiming peas, broadbeans, and basil before the heat of the day. To make a wreath, I sat in the grass by the green waste pile stripping dry branches of leaves, I bent over to select succulents from the council planting on the nature strip across the road. Where do you lend your hands and work and voice? What will you make of that? A beautiful offering. #worship #koropiko #adventwords2019

This month marks the end of living in intentional community in Footscray for eight and a half years (albeit I will still be living in intentional proximity).
In that time, I have lived in six houses and with over 20 different people – some of them twice. I’m packing at the house I’m in now to move again, and found it remarkable to have so much in the ‘storehouse’ to take with me preserved from various houses I’ve lived in. A metaphor somehow, of lives and home shared. I know my experiences of living in community will nourish me in the future as will the preserves I take with me and I’m conscious of the privilege of that. Having good things stored up means the seasons have been fruitful. We have shared abundance together and there’s still some leftover.
I started this blog post wondering whether I might have some insight or wisdom I wanted to share but what comes are memories and gratitude:
Waking up my first morning in a new house to a stranger in the kitchen, the grief and grace of the days your good intentions come to nothing, the awful times when we weren’t sure we’d have anywhere to live, the raw joy when Maria got PR. I remember working with Elizabeth Braid to create a grace resource celebrating something of Melbourne’s small alternative church communities, and the poem-prayer about negotiating everyone’s wants and needs:
A Prayer for the Share House
Take away my resentment that the dishes still have food on them, cold water-full sponge, soap bottle half gone…
and give me gratitude for the dishes that have been done today
Take away my resentment for the planned meal ingredients used and not replaced…
and give me gratitude for the food that has been provided today
Take away my resentment at the passive-aggressive pile of belongings outside my bedroom door…
and give me gratitude for the cleaning that has happened today
Take away my resentment for the sleep lost holding you crying after the nth fight with your boyfriend…
and give me gratitude that I have friends with whom to share life
Take away my resentment for the times you have company and I-just-want-to-be alone, for the reverse of that, and when we each want to be alone and the house just isn’t big enough for the both of us…
and give me gratitude for those moments… the brief, beautiful moments… we get it right.
Take away my resentment for the things said, the things unsaid and those for which we do not have words but our spirit cries
and give me gratitude for the things said, the things unsaid and those for which we do not have words but our spirit cries
Amen
Today I add this addendum…
Take away those moments I felt like I failed, the guilt I felt falling short of all I imagined I should be able to be and do, all my ego thought I could.
and give me gratitude for my humanity, for leaning on and learning from others whose help I need – the seeds sown and fruit grown and the love. God, I’m so grateful for the love.
Thanks to all of you with whom I have lived, loved and shared life. May the road rise up to meet you and may it sometimes lead you back to my door.

Illustrator – Chris Booth
Our practices of radical hospitality and community have something to offer we know the world is hungry for and to that end we are going to share some recipes over the coming weeks that are for community meals. Don’t think: How can I reduce the scale of this to feed my family? Instead think: Who shall I invite to share food at my table?
This is the first of a series of reflections I’ve written on community meals with each one including a recipe…Enjoy Credo’s Carbonara recipe at RadicalDiscipleship.

Look at the leaves, look how they fall for you
And everything you do.
Yeah, they were all yellow…
#anotherkindofcoldplay #groan #winterblooms

The meaning of life
is shrouded in sacred
and ordinary things
like sunshine, coffee, candlelight…
Introduce ritual.
Layer purpose in all your choices.
Life is worth living.
Life is worth giving.
Life is worth having.
Talitha Fraser