Welcome to the House of Barbecue

Life in Community, Part 3 of 3

Today’s post is the 3rd and final in a 3-part series on my life in community. If you need to catch up, you can read the first one here and the second one here. 

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Hi, it's me. I’m sitting in my tiny office on a sunny day, the brightness diffused by my exceptionally dirty window. Seattle’s had a burst of sunny weather, which is always *the best* when days are so short this time of year. I’ve been spending time in the yard – pruning, mulching, and generally putting my garden to bed for the winter.

What’s November like where you live?

My garden on a sunny day in November, before I cleaned it up and put it to bed for the Winter.

As we head into a season of Thanksgiving and I decompress from sharing our community breakup story last week, I’m struck by how consistent our family rhythms of community have been over the years.

Light a fire, share a meal, laugh, sometimes cry, and we’ll see you next time.

Growing up, I watched my mom’s community show up for each other with laughter and casseroles, and this is what I’ve wanted more than anything as an adult. I think we’re close. It doesn’t happen overnight – we have to lay the groundwork. We have to be open to letting people in and trustworthy enough for them to keep showing up. 

Bryan and I were aligned on this from day one of knowing each other. Before we were married, our first deep conversation about what a future would look like together was about community and the ways we would share our home and lives. We rented out rooms in our house, hosted small groups through our faith community, and held board game nights.

There was no agenda. There is still no agenda. All I know is we have to make room for relationships to thrive.

Weekly fire night, September 2022.

Years ago at our first home south of Seattle, we hosted weekly barbecues – an open invitation to show up and throw something on the grill. We had preschoolers. Life was busy, work was hard, and our house was always messy, but making space for both the small talk and the deep talk became a way of life for the Zug family.

One summer, I made a new friend at the gym. As we treadmilled together, it somehow came up that she couldn’t find a babysitter for a thing she had to do. 

“I’ll watch your kid,” I said. Her son was the same age as Ruthie, probably around four years old at the time.

Sensing her hesitation – likely weighing the generous offer against the fact that despite being a gym friend, I was basically a stranger – I added, “Hey, why don’t you come over this weekend, we’re hosting a barbecue. If we seem legit, then you can let me babysit.”

She agreed. And, on her way home from that barbecue, her preschooler said from his car seat in the back, “Mom, can we go back to the House of Barbecue someday?” 

They did, and that’s how our weekly gatherings became known as The House of Barbecue for many years.

House of Barbecue (HoBBQ), 2009.

In the aftermath of Mars Hill shutting down in 2014, I came across an article by Heather Kopp on her now defunct blog about recovery and spirituality. Here’s a quote that stood out to me:

When folks gather around a system of shared beliefs, the price of acceptance in the group is usually agreement, which means the greatest value – stated or not – is being right. Unfortunately, this often creates an atmosphere of fear and performance, which in turn invites conformity.

But when people gather around a shared need for healing, the price of acceptance in the group is usually vulnerability, which means the greatest value – stated or not – is being real. This tends to foster an atmosphere of safety and participation, which in turn invites community.

All Bryan and I have ever tried to do is make room for people to show up and be seen, ourselves included. I think it’s working, because even in the freezing cold and sideways rain during a global pandemic, people kept showing up to the fire pit in our backyard. Even when I said a couple weeks ago, “Hey, it’s getting cold outside again. Are people still into this?” The overwhelming response was, DON’T YOU DARE SHUT THIS DOWN. 

Well alrighty, then. 

Until next time,

Jen

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News + Notes

👋 Hello to all my new readers who joined over the last couple weeks! Special shout out to a few of you who mentioned my old blog and how excited you are that I’m writing again. That was lovely to hear. 🥰

Will you celebrate a milestone with me? I’ll write more about my writing goals in a post next month, but for now I’m celebrating my first 100 readers! 🥳 

Thank you for being here. See you next time.