Snakes, Neighbors and Who Lives With Me

A week ago my husband and I helped my daughter's fiance move into the apartment they will share after they are married. As I carried a loaded box up a flight of stairs, I saw a young man coming down--

with a snake wrapped around his arm.

When we passed on the stairs, the snake was eye-level, his tongue flicking inches away from my face.

"Oh," I said, startled. "You have a pet snake." (Sometimes my brilliant conversational discourse astonishes me.)

He smiled. "A California king snake."

I watched as he descended the stairs, unwrapped the 3-foot snake from his arm and placed the snake on the common grass area, so the snake could...what...get its exercise?

Sometimes we have no choice about who are neighbors are.

They might have pet snakes. Or a barking dog. Or play loud music. Or neglect to cut the front lawn.

And let's be honest--sometimes we have no choice about who lives in our house with us either.

In this past year extreme joy and extreme sadness have come to live with me. First grandbaby. Daughter getting married (this falls in the extreme joy category, FYI). Problems at church. Hurting friends. My dad's cancer journey.

I used to think that my heart could only contain one emotion, either sadness or joy, but I've come to discover that this is not true. Joy and sadness often hang out together.

Recognizing this. Accepting this-- has given me peace as I walk through this human experience.

"There's only one address anyone lives at and it's always a duplex--joy and pain always co-habit every season of life." - Ann Voskamp

In this human experience where joy and pain live together, where shadow and celebration hold hands, I am thankful of one thing. God also inhabits that place. In the pain. In the joy. Jesus, Emmanuel, is God with us. With me. This is not just a Christmas message.

What does "with me" mean?

Does it mean "with me" like someone next to me? No, nearer than that. Does it mean "with me" like someone holding me in tight embrace? No, nearer than that. "With me" like the blood in my veins? No, nearer still. "With me" like the beat of my heart? No, nearer, nearer.*

My faith says that "with me" becomes "in me." I no longer live, but Christ lives in me (Galatians 2:20).

In the joy. With me.

In the pain. With me.

In the sadness. With me.

In weddings, in funerals, in life ending and life beginning.

In squabbles. In trouble. With me. In me.

I hope God finds me to be a good neighbor.*

Quote from Pursuing the Christ by Jennifer Kennedy Dean