Wednesday morning, as I was getting ready, I had a thought…”no more silos”.  At first, I didn’t think too much of it but then I started pondering it.

Have I been living in a silo?? Do I isolate myself?  If I’m being completely honest is that silo living is easy for me.  That’s how I grew up.  There wasn’t too much community, it was just us.  It was always the underlying life lesson that “what happened in this house, stays in this house”.  There was no doing life together.  Even if something wrong or out of the ordinary happened it was never addressed and as if people turned a blind eye to whatever it was going on.

Before November of last year silo living was my thing.  My comfort zone. I am a introvert and being alone is my sweet spot.  Going through things and pushing past the pain and/or hurt to keep up a sense of normalcy is how I grew up, it’s what I seen all my life. All that I was used too.  Then tragedy hit…my older sister, who shared our home with us, died unexpectedly.  It was like my silo could no longer survive…I needed people, I needed community.  Looking back, I don’t know if I would have mentally/emotionally survived without the love and care of others.  People came in and did the things that I just did not have the capacity to do; cooking, cleaning, taking care of my children…just being there to catch my tears and pray healing over my heart.

My silo living has so shifted to communal living…and I’m okay with that because I seen all the good that came through the people in my community.