I never paid much attention to the concept of community. Of course, I knew about school communities, church communities, neighborhood communities, and even information communities. But it wasn’t until recently that I truly understood what a community is—on a deeper, more personal level.
About a month and a half ago, my little nephew was diagnosed with brain cancer and had to undergo surgery to remove a tumor. He is now undergoing chemotherapy. In response, our family decided to organize a simple fundraiser—just something to help. The original plan was modest: a carline setup selling jambalaya plates.
But what unfolded was far more powerful than we imagined.
We needed a place to host the fundraiser, so I reached out to a pastor friend of mine. Not only was he supportive—he embraced the idea and suggested we turn it into a full-day event. On top of jambalaya, we added white beans to the menu (and let me tell you, they were delicious). My brother-in-law provided desserts to round out the meal: jambalaya, white beans, a roll, and dessert—all packaged and ready to go. Later in the evening, the event continued with a live band, drinks, an auction, and most importantly, fellowship with the church community.
That day, the word community came alive for me.
So, what is community? A community is a group of people who interact with one another and share common values, interests, or goals—often within a shared environment or context. At the heart of any community are a few key characteristics: shared identity or purpose, meaningful relationships, mutual support, and a sense of belonging.
For me, this experience brought relationships and mutual support into sharp focus.
Friends, family members, and even strangers came together—people I had never met—offering their time to cook, serve, and deliver meals to local businesses. As I stood on the serving line, I was overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and kindness for my nephew. One moment that touched me deeply was seeing a coworker come through the line—someone with no direct connection to our family, someone who didn’t even know the fundraiser was for my nephew. Later, I found out that the mother of another coworker and friend had also come through the line.
These seemingly small moments revealed something profound: communities like this exist all around us—quietly, faithfully supporting one another. People looking out for their brothers and sisters in Christ. People showing up for someone in need, simply because it’s the right thing to do.
If more people could witness this kind of generosity—better yet, take part in it—imagine what a more compassionate world we could live in. Miracles wouldn’t be rare; they’d be part of our daily lives.
It was a powerful reminder for me: I need to do better. To love more. To serve more. To be present for others the way they were present for us.
The journey continues…