Grab your coffee, friend. I've got a story to tell you.
You know how Jesus made it sound so simple? "Love your neighbor as yourself." Like it was the most natural thing in the world. But here I am, coffee in hand, thinking about how some days my neighbors feel more like strangers who just happen to live close to me.
Maybe you know what I mean. There's the one who never waves back. The one whose dog escapes weekly. The one who plays music just a little too loud on Saturday mornings. Or, the chatty Kathy that always seems to appear when you have your hands loaded with 8 heavy grocery bags because you want to make just one trip! And yet, Jesus says, "Love them like you love yourself."
But then I watch my husband Edwin, and it’s like he's cracked the code on what that truly means.
Before we even moved into our new home this year—picture this: brand new neighborhood, empty lots, construction dust everywhere—Edwin was already praying for neighbors we hadn't met yet. I'm over here stressing about unpacking boxes and he's asking God to help him love people who don't even exist in our world yet.
The day the first moving truck pulled up, guess who was out there with a smile and a "Hey, welcome to the neighborhood"? Edwin was. All the while, I was still in my pajamas, peeking through the blinds like some kind of suburban spy.
One afternoon, I watched through the window as our new neighbor struggled to empty two pods by himself. Before I could even process what was happening, Edwin was out there—sleeves rolled up, back bent, carrying box after box like it was his own stuff. They didn't know each other from Adam, but there he was. Because when you love your neighbor as yourself, you help them move their belongings.
The Neighbor No One Talks To
And then there was that neighbor. You know the type—the one everyone whispers about. "Oh, we don't talk to him." The invisible wall around his property that screams "Do Not Disturb."
But Edwin? Nope. Every single day, he'd wave across the yard like they were old friends. A cheerful "Good morning!" whether he got one back or not. Day after day after day.
But you know what happened? Slowly, that wall started to crack. The man everyone avoided began nodding back. Then waving. Progress, right?
But you know what really broke the ice? His puppies.
This guy had two big, lovable escape artists who must’ve had a PhD in fence-jumping. Every time he left for work, those dogs staged their great escape. And I’m not talking about cute little lapdogs. These were full-sized, “Holy cow, when did they get this big?” kind of puppies.
Five or six times—probably more—Edwin would glance out the window and there they were, galloping through the neighborhood like they owned the place. And there we were—Edwin and I—running around in people’s yards, calling, coaxing, bribing with treats, trying to wrangle these furry tornadoes back home before their dad got back.
That’s what did it. Our neighbor’s whole demeanor shifted. Suddenly it wasn’t just polite waves across the yard. It was, “Hey, thank you so much for helping with my dogs. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”
By the end of the summer, he wasn’t “that neighbor” anymore. He was the kind of neighbor who’d wave first and stop to say hello.
The Lawn Mower
Now let me tell you about the lawn mower. Back in Tennessee, our neighbor's mower died right at the start of mowing season. Edwin had this beautiful riding mower—his pride and joy, practically still had that new-mower smell.
Most people would say, "Oh man, that's rough. Good luck with that."
But, Edwin. He handed over the keys.
All summer long, that man used our mower. All. Summer. Long. And you want to know how many times he offered gas money? Once. One time. Did Edwin keep track? Did he passively mention it over the fence? Did he suddenly remember he needed to use his own mower when he saw the guy heading out to cut grass?
Not even once. Because love doesn't keep a spreadsheet.
When it came time to move to North Carolina, we, at first, tried to sell that mower online but didn’t get a single lead.
One night I looked at Edwin and said, "I think we're supposed to give it away."
The night before we moved out, I watched my husband start up that mower one last time, drive it across the yard, and press those keys into our neighbor's hand. "It's yours," he said. Just like that. Then he walked away.
Our neighbor came running over in shock as I was out standing in the yard, eyes wide. "You can't just give us your mower!"
"It's yours, just as Edwin said," I repeated.
"But what can I do to thank you all?" he asked.
And I heard myself say, "Get back in church."
Where did that come from? *Thank you Holy Spirit!
His whole face lit up. "You know what? You're absolutely right. My wife and I used to go all the time. It's been years. We really need to go back."
From a lawn mower to eternity. Only God could orchestrate that.
Sometimes it’s……
Here's what I'm learning, friend, that my husband has so beautifully portrayed: Loving your neighbor doesn't require a grand gesture or a perfect plan. Sometimes it's waving when you don't feel like it. Sometimes it's spending your Saturday helping someone move furniture. Sometimes it's giving away something you love because love is bigger than ownership.
Most of the time, it's just showing up. Being the person who notices. Being the person who cares.
Because here's the thing—we love like this because God loved us first. His love is the source, the fuel, the reason we can keep waving at the grumpy neighbor and helping with runaway dogs and giving away lawn mowers.
And when we let that love spill over? It changes everything. Walls come down. Hearts soften. Love whispers to the heart, “You matter to God.”
So maybe loving your neighbor starts with a simple wave tomorrow morning. Maybe it's finally introducing yourself to the family that moved in last month. Maybe it's something as crazy as giving away your lawn mower.
Whatever it is, it's never wasted in God’s kingdom. Because love—real, Jesus-kind of love—that's the language everyone understands, even when they pretend they don't.
So, Pass it on, friend. Pass it on and be like Jesus.
Lovely❤️