Pursuing Faith-Filled Friendship
Sometimes, community falls right into our lap. People in the same stage of life just seem to show up.
That’s especially true during our school years, when we’re surrounded by people who live near us and share the same milestones, setbacks, and celebrations.
And I’m learning it can also be true of our parenting years. As we show up for our kids, we naturally find ourselves in the same spaces as other adults with kids the same age.
I’m in a season of easy community right now. But today I was challenged to look back and ask myself what my effort was worth in the seasons when community didn’t come so easily.
My husband and I struggled with infertility for many years. In that season, we had to be intentional about where we spent our time, who we surrounded ourselves with, and the conversations we chose to have.
We weren’t just seeking comfort—we were seeking a miracle. And miracles require more than hope. They require faith and prayer, which are a whole lot easier when you have the help and encouragement from friends.
I encourage you to read Luke 5 when you can, but for now, here’s an excerpt from the story as a refresher (okay, maybe it’s a little longer than an “excerpt”… but it’s so good!).
One day Jesus was teaching, and Pharisees and teachers of the law were sitting there. They had come from every village of Galilee and from Judea and Jerusalem. And the power of the Lord was with Jesus to heal the sick. Some men came carrying a paralyzed man on a mat and tried to take him into the house to lay him before Jesus. When they could not find a way to do this because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and lowered him on his mat through the tiles into the middle of the crowd, right in front of Jesus. When Jesus saw their faith, he said, “Friend, your sins are forgiven”...He said to the paralyzed man, “I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home.” Immediately he stood up in front of them, took what he had been lying on and went home praising God. Everyone was amazed and gave praise to God. They were filled with awe and said, “We have seen remarkable things today.”
Worth the longer read, right? It’s such a powerful picture of what real community looks like.
The paralyzed man’s friends showed up for a miracle that day. And my guess is that at least one of them was discouraged when they arrived and realized they wouldn’t be able to make it through the crowd. They might have thought something like, I know Jesus is here, but we aren’t able to access Him. Luckily another friend in that group refused to give up, and their faith moved the entire group closer to Jesus—and it changed their friend’s life forever.
Once Jesus heals the man, he immediately stands up, takes what he had been lying on and goes home praising God.
As I’ve evaluated my own level of effort towards community lately, I think it’s safe to say I’ve been lying on a mat. I’ve been living where it’s comfortable and easy while hoping for revival in my heart. I haven’t experienced it like I have in the past, and if I’m honest, I’ve been in a bit of a spiritual lull.
I’m not in the same place of desperation as I was when I was seeking a miracle, but I miss seeing remarkable things, hearing testimonies, and praising God the way I did when I was surrounded by a faith-filled community.
This isn’t about showing up and getting what you want. It’s about the revival our hearts crave in every season—the kind that grows from encouragement, prayer, and the faith of friends. We all have our moments of being the discouraged friend and the friend who didn’t give up, which is why a faith community is so important for everyone involved.
So here’s what I plan to do next to get off the mat:
Start praying regularly with my husband at home again.
Re-connect with a friend who believes in miracles.
Seek out opportunities to plug into a small group at church to help me rebuild a faith-based community in this new season of life. (We recently joined a new church plant, so small groups aren’t up and running yet.)
Whether you’re in a season of easy community, a season of loneliness, or a season of desperately needing a miracle, I hope this encourages you to take your next step toward connection.
