I praise God for His patience with anemones like me, who by multiple experience of bitter community splits, theological deconstructions and reconstructions, and other such miseries have been rendered fearful of trusting, and thus believing and receiving the simple love offered by His people. God’s people come in all kinds of flavour varieties- but the love that resides within each is what binds them together in fellowship. Love is God’s signature- the candle in the window that announces that He is in residence. It is not a creed or theology that forges community- it is a shared love, a shared history, and a desire to walk together with curious and committed hearts- hands open to embrace all that is begifted from above. Slowly, the sarcophagus of silence is being overcome. The risk of knowing and being known is being taken. I don’t have to be anything other than myself- and hopefully that is acceptable enough. For God to watch over the honey and the sting- as this wounded soul learns to reach out in faith once again- perhaps it is the Lord building this house at last.