We weren’t good at lending, or borrowing, when I was growing up.
I mean, my sister and I borrowed each other’s clothes all the time, and one or both of us were always raiding Mom’s closet. We were regular users of the public and church libraries, and we all loved giving and receiving gifts. But borrowing and lending – that was more difficult. To lend someone a possession requires a certain amount of trust – one, that they’ll take care of it, and two, that they’ll give it back. And to borrow something requires an admission of need, and then the responsibility of taking care of the borrowed item. It costs a little more, in soul terms, than buying or even renting something. Both renting and buying let you pay for the item you’re using, let you give something back. Borrowing, and lending, force you to be vulnerable.
My family was always financially secure, though not wealthy, and we hate to impose on people. We would park at the airport and pay the parking fees when we got home, rather than having someone take us or pick us up. We would board the dog at the kennel rather than asking someone to come over and feed her. However, since being on my own in Abilene, I’ve learned about a different way of handling these things, a different kind of community.
Part of the change came from being a college student – Joy and I shared books; Tori and I read and edited each other’s papers; in Oxford we all shared dishes and food and textbooks. College students are a bit unmoored, small islands floating in a new sea, and sharing things helps forge connections in a tangible way.
Post-college, my life and salary still don’t allow me to afford to do everything on my own. I’ve shared houses, kitchens, grocery bills; borrowed computers and backpacks and money. Instead of movers and repairmen, I’ve frequently called Lorin and Calvin. Instead of renting a temporary place, I moved in with Tim and Julie while I was between houses. I felt so beholden, until I realized that they were glad to help me and have me as a part of their family. I treasured those weeks in Mary Kate’s little green room, and the mornings when I watched the sun rise over nectarines and avocadoes on the kitchen windowsill.
This week I’m feeding Bethany’s cat, Merlin, while she’s away in Boston. And Jeremiah and I are lending Abi our cars when she needs them, since she got in a wreck last week. I don’t say these things to praise myself, but rather to admit that it’s tough for me to be the lender – but I’m learning. And I’m also learning how to receive. I’m learning to say “yes” when people ask if they can bring something when they come over for dinner. I’m learning not to feel guilty about keeping borrowed books for a while. I’m learning to be vulnerable with people I care deeply about, and trust them with my books and dishes and receive their generous offers of help, and so, somehow, to trust them with my life.
(Several others have written about this topic recently – which helped inspire this post. See Jen’s “A Good Way to Shut People Down” and Annie’s “Not Alone.”)
Beautiful post, Katie!
Also: I love that you used the word “Beholden” — it’s tragically underused! 🙂
I would share with you anytime.
You were also amazing about letting me borrow your car once a week so I could teach girl scouts! I think that if you’re not much of a lender it’s because you’re such a big giver, if that makes sense 🙂 miss you.