I’d been curious who lived in the little house with the windows and doors duct-taped, tin foil covering the mail slot. One day I spoke to him as he picked up scattered mail. From time to time, I stopped by to see how he was getting on. He never invited me in, too many germs and allergens, so we sat the steps and watched cars go by. One day the next-door neighbor saw us sitting. He waved. It took some time before he came over to sit, but such is often the pace of God’s work among us.