Life is funny. Sometimes I think I've been given lemons, and I set out to make lemonade, only to find that my apparently bad situation has been turned into an infinitely good one, far better than I might have thought at the start. He turns my mourning into dancing. Othertimes, I convince myself that maybe lemons really will make a good snack, find some, and bite in. My eyes water, my tounge writhes, and I continue chewing.
I started Spring Term at Capernwray Hall as a removed young woman, nostalgic for the friendships I was sure were gone to the far corners of the earth, and I found myself unwilling to admit new faces into my suddenly downsized circle of familiarity. For my snobbery, I suffered. I felt lonely much of the time, and a general neglect and laziness crept into all aspects of my life, extending beyond the relationships who's growth had groaned to a halt.
I continued like this for about four weeks, until finally, God shook me awake with the realization that my mood, my attitude, and my generally poor disposition could move past my relationships to people: it was becoming a hinderance to my relationship with Him. By cutting myself off from the community He had put me in, I was subsequently cutting myself off from Him.
Here's the point: We are creatures designed for community. You cannot conquer the world with your Bible and a pocket knife, you need the body right there with you for support and fellowship, for union and communion. The union of myself with many people led to a closer, more intimate union with the One it matters most with.
