...our house, in the middle of our street...

Remember in elementary school when your best friend was the kid whose last name was alphabetically after or before yours for lining up, kickball, school pictures...and the list goes on?  Then that evolved into the junior high buddy who shared homeroom, PE and lunch.  In college, it was the one other girl on your hall who wanted to watch that new Nicholas Sparks' movie at 2 am instead of cramming for the big math final.

We are offered relationships through pre-established communities, such as school or work, but once we graduate or clock out, we head into our neighborhoods, which are often overlooked as opportunities to grow deep-rooted relationships.  I am blessed to have a rag tag group of Goonies-never-say-die type neighbors.  We call our hood "Funny Hill" and seek out ways to encourage and support each other.  Fellowship with this community of mine can look like a late-night bonfire, driving a neighbor to the grocery store (or receiving a ride to the grocery store!), cutting someone's grass (or being the recipient of the gracious gift of grass cutting!), community gardening, kayaking/canoeing/camping, preparing and sharing community meals and the list goes on and on.

I love the strong sense of community established through a shared geographic boundary.  It's like how you go to a sporting event and are around folks dressed in the same colors, rooting for the same team. Remember that childhood feeling of absolute freedom and contentment playing with the neighborhood gang 'til the sun went down and everyone had to go home for dinner?  That is how I feel in my neighborhood.  Folks from different walks of life in different stages of life unifying around a shared commonality.

"...I remember way back then when everything was true and when 

We would have such a very good time such a fine time 

Such a happy time 

And I remember how we'd play simply waste the day away..."