Community is what will get us through.
Thursday, April 10, 2025
What happened? My day job allows me to work from home, which often means work-from-Chick-fil-A. Yesterday, the table behind me was a group of older retired men who, from what I gathered, meet weekly for breakfast. I didn’t have headphones, so I overheard snippets of their conversation while writing emails. Trading stories of what their doctors are recommending (mostly drink more water) and gently ribbing each other for minor theological differences in how benedictions are done at their various denominations (very West Michigan). They carried on boisterously for about an hour, then got up to leave with promises to see each other next week. Right before leaving (and right by my table, I promise I wasn’t being weird), one man put his hand on the other’s shoulder and said, we’re coming up on a year of your wife being gone, aren’t we? The other man responded that next week would mark one year since she died. He told him he’s had some really lonely days. I bet you have. She was amazing. What a gift to see this beautiful moment. And the moment opened up because his friend saw him. He wasn’t afraid of saying the hard thing. He didn’t remind his friend that his wife was gone. His friend was already thinking about it, all the time. The friendship had deep enough roots that they knew when to have fun and when to check in.
Today, my friend Allison texted me this Washington Post article because the two of us are desperate for immigration good news. The headline says: Trump border czar’s town stood up for three kids detained by ICE — and won. The story is about how a community rallied to get a mother and her third grader, tenth grader, and eleventh grader out of ICE detention. I’m already over the word-count I promised you, so I highly recommend reading that piece. The way that regular people rallied because these kids that they cared about were locked away in a detention facility is beautiful.
Why am I sharing these two stories? Why am I breaking from our format (and the promised brevity!)? Maybe the thread between the two stories is tenuous at best, but community is what’s going to get us through. I do not know if we can change the hearts and minds of our federal leaders. We will keep trying! We will not grow weary of doing good! We will keep taking our daily actions and praying! But how do we show up for immigrants in our city? On our block? We have to know them. These teachers knew those kids, and so raised Hell until those kids were back in their classrooms. We have to know people. We have to put down roots. And, while we pray this day never comes, we need to be willing to mobilize in their defense.
How can I pray? Pray for every person in your life who might be vulnerable to ICE detention. Pray for their protection. Pray for your own formation, that if called upon, you will rally in their defense.
What is one more thing I can do? Check in on one of the people you just prayed for. Your check in doesn’t need to have anything to do with immigration. (In fact, maybe it’s better if it doesn’t.) But keep deepening those roots.
Did no one come to mind when thinking of people who may be vulnerable to ICE detention? There is no shame here! But I wonder if there is a step you can take to get closer to your immigrant neighbors. Could you volunteer at a local nonprofit that serves immigrants? Could you switch your grocery shopping to an immigrant-run shop?
Yes!! This is exactly it. Thank you for sharing both stories. It reminds me of conversations we’ve had recently at church about what we would do if some of our Venezuelan friends ever were in this position. We have to think about these things, have these conversations, and do this as a team. I’m glad you decided to exceed the word limit today, friend. It was so worth it. 💕
Beautifully said, and Amen! Thank you Brittani!