This month, I’ve been sitting and struggling with what it means to be a neighbor in a world that often encourages us to pull back. Fear, exhaustion, and the constant churn of crises can make withdrawal feel like the safest option, particularly for unpartnered women even if we have other family and circles of friends. Every week, however, I’m reminded that neighborliness is not just a feeling. It’s a practice, a posture, a calling, and sometimes a quiet act of courage.

Part of that courage comes from the spaces I inhabit and the lives that touch mine. Each week I join the Episcopal Church’s Office of Government Relations for immigration and networking calls and attend briefings from the Churches for Middle East Peace. I also participate in monthly updates from multiple Emergency Migration Ministries, ad hoc workshops and discussions hosted by or including people of faith, and follow the media releases and other public statements from a variety of ecumenical NGOs and government agencies. These are not abstract policy discussions. They are windows into real lives, real communities, real issues, and real actions navigating systems that are often opaque, overwhelming and unjust.

Recently, I’ve discovered just how connected I am and how much information I have access to. My access isn’t exclusive or really extraordinary. I just happen to have a gift (or bad habit) for collecting information. I’ve also come to realize that one way I can practice neighborliness is by sharing what I learn. Not as noise or pressure, but as an offering. It’s my way of saying “Here’s what is happening and what the wider church and faith community is paying attention to.” These are the stories and resources that I hear about that maybe others need to know about. Hopefully, sharing them will help me stay grounded in compassion rather than retreating.

Up to this point, I have not shared much of what I hear in an organized way. I am trying to change that. Not because I have all the answers but because I may have information someone else can use. Sharing keeps my heart open. Sharing reminds me that every policy has a human face, every crisis touches someone’s beloved, and every update is an invitation to remain present, witness, and take action rather than turning away. Passing information, insights, and resources along—whether they’re about immigration, human rights, history, data, peace building, or creation care—becomes a small act of solidarity.

Being a neighbor, for me, means resisting the urge to shrink my world. It means letting the stories I hear and read shape my prayers, my advocacy, and the way I move through my life and my communities. Some weeks I feel the pull towards silence but then I remember that courage doesn’t have to be dramatic. Sometimes courage is sharing a resource or posing a grounding question. Sometimes it means discussing things and exploring different perspectives. Sometimes it looks like seeing someone or bearing witness without looking away.

This the courage I am trying to practice: to be a neighbor in a world that needs more of them.

Closing Question

What helps you stay open and connected to your neighbors, especially when the world feels overwhelming or far away?