Isn’t it interesting that God said it wasn’t good for the man to be alone (Genesis 2:18) so He made woman?
God was there with Adam, yes? Adam wasn’t truly alone in one sense, but very much alone in a human companionship and community way.
God created us to be in community.
This was brought home to me in a strange way. My husband and I have a dog named Harley—a smooth haired fox terrier. He attracts a lot of attention, particularly from children. Last evening, Harley was taking us for a walk when a little boy ran up and asked if he could pet our dog. The little boy smiled when I said “Yes” and then he looked at my face with the bandage from my surgery and asked, “What’s that?” I immediately thought of the medical answer and decided that wouldn’t be nearly as informative or age appropriate as the answer I gave him: “I had an owie on my face and so the doctor took it away.” The little boy said “Oh, that’s good.” While he was petting Harley, two little girls came running up to see Harley too, and one of them spoke for the pair and asked “What happened?” and they both pointed to their faces corresponding to where my bandage is. I gave them the same answer and they said, “Oh. OK.” After this episode, I talked with my husband about how I ran into a woman from church while I was at the store earlier and she also asked me “What happened?” I’m sure everyone I encountered was wondering about this prominent bandage, but only she—a friend—asked.
Community: husband, boy, girls, strangers, friend…
Think of all the ways this never would have happened if I were not in community. No one to see my face or diagnose my cancer. No one to perform the surgery. No one to make the car that I drove home. No bandage manufacturers. No store at which to shop or cashiers to ring my purchase of bandages. No friend. No strangers.
But there was a difference between the strangers at the store and the children. None of them knew me—they had that in common. I’m not a child psychologist, but I thought it was really fascinating that children asked about it whereas the strangers–adults–were silent. Were the children merely curious? I imagine the adults were too. Was it children’s innocence and observation? Unlike adults who also observed, perhaps children had awareness and concern because they have an association with bandages that is different—a “kiss it, make it better” mentality?
Why is it that my friend acted in a similar way to the children? The simple answer is that she cared. She loves me with the love of Christ.
Observation. Curiosity. Concern.
Strangers observed and may have been curious, but what about their concern for another human being? Maybe it was there, but as adults they’d learned not to express it. Then I wondered back to the children. Could their questions evidence a rudimentary community on display before the layers of social mores and taboos would turn their thoughts inward, fear would silence their questions, or responsibilities would dull their concern and transform it into resignation or apathy?
If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it. (1 Corinthians 12:26)
Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. (Galatians 6:2)
We were made to be in community—to be invested in one another beyond the simple “How are you?” In the United States, most of us have the individualism as standard equipment and community is something we must relearn. There is no better place to relearn community and our concern for others than in the church.
Isn’t it wonderful that when God set out to create human beings, that He made us each to be individuals? No cookie cutter, mass-produced, dime-a-dozen clones. Each one of us is handcrafted.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot. As of this writing, I’m recovering from having a basal cell carcinoma lesion removed from my face. Once the pain and swelling go away, there will be a scar (hopefully it will not be too noticeable). But for Christians, these scars are our stigmata—the marks of life—as we pick up our cross and follow Christ on a journey of BE-ing in a fallen world. 
God’s reign and rule can be upon our hearts and spread upon the earth. We will see His holiness and grace in the giving of the Law and in writing the Law on our hearts. Our role as regents will involve Law-abiding and Law illuminating/ witnessing in contrast to a world of sin while this earth remains. 
Part of the joy of gardening is the beauty of wildlife drawn to a well planned garden. I love birds. When I was a child, I kept a bird-watching journal and enjoyed identifying birds and their habitats. A long time ago, I abandoned the written journal, but mentally, I have a record of birds in the yard and when their seasons are.
Real world gardening involves everything being beautiful its time (Ecclesiastes 3:11). 
Even in the midst of dreary days, perennial features such as the cheerful yellow forsythia, “Cardinal” red-twig dogwood, and King Alfred daffodils lift one’s spirits.
And look at the beautiful range of colors of emerging growth of turtlehead (Chelone obliqua), Astilbe ‘Fanal’, and hostas—all of which tolerate standing water for short periods. Good thing, since in every real world garden a little rain must fall. This particular garden is always among the last to be worked because it is a low spot in our yard. I find that working our higher front yard to the lowest back is always helpful since that’s how things aren’t worked when it’s too wet. Working the soil when it’s wet ruins the structure. Mulching when it’s raining causes the ground to retain the soggy conditions longer. It’s important with conditions like these to research carefully what plants will survive in such Out of Eden locations.
My bluebells (Mertensia virginica) are budding and my native cranesbill geranium (Geranium maculatum) won’t be outdone. Also in my woodland garden are lily-of-the-valley (Convallaria majalis) and sweet woodruff (Galium odoratum) which are not native but escaped cultivation and are real showstoppers. I like that phrase: escaped cultivation. Makes them seem like garden rebels…or too beautiful to be held captive.
O’Reilly, this means you. While in the camera’s eye, you have the ability to persuade many people and convince them that “the spin stops here.” When you enter the realm of theology, we no longer call it spin. To the extent you are misinformed and try to play pastor-prophet-priest in your bully pulpit, you need to know the consequences of displaying such ignorance: it’s called deception. Lies. Dangerous. Infectious.