Community

com·mu·ni·ty

social group of any size whose members reside in a specific locality, share government, and often have a common cultural and historical heritage.

We all live in communities, but don't necessarily live in community.  This past week as I learned about sacrifice and service, I also learned about living in community.  The community that I find living overseas and teaching in Christian schools is one of my favorite things about my job, not because these communities are perfect, but because they exist in a way that is incredibly rare in the States.  It's not communal living, but it is community living to an extent that is hardly seen outside of biological families- heck, I don't know that it's seen within biological families much anymore.  

You see, when we got food poisoning last week and I didn't know what to do, I had a friend I could call.  She's a friend, yes, and with her husband runs the rugby program I volunteer with, but she's also an ICS parent and part of the ICS community.  She wasn't able herself to do much more than give me simple advice, but she also knew of 3 nurses within the ICS family and was able to give me the contact info for those I didn't have.  The first one was out of the country, I left a message with the second, but reached the third.  

Here, a mother of 4 (whose oldest is in my class) whom I've really never spoken to much and her husband (who I work with) were able to drop everything on a Wednesday afternoon and come to my apartment to see my family and give me advice on if I needed to take them in anywhere- and if so, a ride and help getting them registered at the hospital.  After we concluded that medical help would really be best, we were able to arrange a house call from my doctor so that wasn't necessary.  So before heading back home they went out and restocked us on bottled water, ice, and rehydration packets. While we were waiting for the doctor to arrive the second nurse called me back, an ICS parent of children far younger than my students, and told me to feel free to call her if I needed anything. 

Meanwhile, most ICSers are out of the country but one of my friends who lives in the building next door to mine in the complex was home and came over with water, juice, applesauce, oatmeal, bread, Campbell's soup, saltine crackers, and an offer to fetch me anything else we needed.  A few minutes later she was back with Tylenol and later in the evening, a refill on phone credit as mine ran out, and some ginger ale.   

Over the next 24 hours, each of these individuals emailed and texted me to see how we were doing and make sure we had what we needed for the recovery.  In addition, they and several other people in the ICS community were praying for us through that time.  In the first couple of hours, before that first phone call, I felt rather alone in the weight of caring for my sick family, but not anymore.  

I've seen the community here and in Buenos Aires swing into action on other occasions- the births of children, severe illness, death of family members, accidents, etc. and had a chance to be a part of that, and I have felt the general support and resources of the wider community before, but this was the first time that I really saw the whole thing in action to support me through something, and I am incredibly grateful.  This, this is why I can live in a foreign land.  Because God has not left me here alone.  He has surrounded me by a wide net of community, rich in resources, far from perfect, but there to help.