Fifty years from now, I'm sure we'll tell the story that way. Neither one of us was looking for a committed relationship, but we were both searching for love. God was calling us to live in the house of love. Those two houses are universes apart, but we tend to switch our addresses between the two as if they were next door to one another. From the questions we ask ourselves and one another.
Any dwelling has house rules.
I've spent plenty of days and nights in the house of fear since moving to Pflugerville in June. Malcolm's, but my own father, who is retiring from 40 years of faithful ministry on October 3rd. Those are the questions I ask behind the locked doors of the house of fear. Sometimes I'll burst through the open door of the house of love filling the peaceful air with my fear-filled questions. But Jesus always changes the question to one worthy of his house of many mansions.