Community is not found but built.
It does not often look like parties, dancing feet and wild laughter (although sometimes it does). Community warms your skin. Like the fading sun on a sweet summer night, it pours gently on the walls of a tiny room, enveloping the few who gather with open ears and honest hearts.
Community sounds of stillness, of gentle tears, shed over raw, scary truths. It sounds like silent cheers and kind permissions; space created, so we don’t have to face life alone.
Community is everything we need, and it is everything we fear. It requires us to show up in ways that stretch our souls and expose the truths we work so hard to hide.
And community is grace. It is having grace when grace isn’t given. It is showing up, despite humanity, and believing in the power of interlocked fingers and tender hugs.
Community is built, not found.