This past weekend, I went to a women's Bible cover workshop.

Bibles laid out. Crafts everywhere. Women laughing over their glue gun mishaps.
I never would have known it existed.
Action shot 📸:

My friend had met the founders the week before. I almost said no. It felt like one more thing to add to an already full week…
I said yes anyway.

And sitting there, watching my own Bible cover come together, piece by piece, I was reminded of something I already knew, but kept forgetting.

God rarely speaks to me alone in a quiet room.

He usually speaks through someone else, right when I need it most.

That's exactly how I came to faith in the first place.
May 2023 - I had just given up alcohol.
I was in a brand new city, with no church friends, no plan, nobody.
And still, people around me started sharing their own God stories, unprompted. They invited me to church.
A year earlier, I would have said a hard no without even thinking about it.

That time, I said yes. And it changed everything.

Genesis 2:18 is the first time God says something is "not good."
It's not about sin. It's about isolation.

"It is not good for the man to be alone."

The pattern continues through all of Scripture.
God places people in families, friendships, churches.
We were never designed to do life completely by ourselves.

Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 puts it plainly:
"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: if either of them falls down, one can help the other up."

Some seasons, you are the one who falls.
Some seasons, you are the one helping someone else stand.
Waiting alone means trying to do both jobs, with no one there for either one.

There's a particular kind of loneliness in being single that's easy to hide.

Admitting you need people can feel like admitting you're not okay.

So we say, "I don't want to make a fuss."
We say, "I don't want to seem ungrateful when I have so much else going on."

We keep the real struggles to ourselves, and call it not wanting to burden anyone.

But Proverbs 27:17 says:
"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another."

Sharpening isn't always comfortable.
A good friend doesn't just tell you what you want to hear...
She might gently say, "I think you're being too hard on yourself."
That kind of honesty requires trust. And trust requires you to actually let someone in.

1. Say yes to the invitation, even when it feels easier to decline.

My own turning point started with saying yes to something I would have refused a year earlier. Community rarely announces itself perfectly. Sometimes it's just an invite you almost talk yourself out of.

2. Let discernment guide who you let close, not fear.

Not every friendship is meant to go deep, and that's fine.
Choose people whose faith you actually want to grow toward, not just whoever happens to be available.

3. Let people see the real season, not just the highlight reel.

James 5:16 says:
"Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed."

That doesn't mean broadcasting everything publicly.
It means having at least one or two people who know what's actually going on.

4. Rebuild it every time life resets, even when you're tired of starting over.

I've had seven addresses in six years. Every move meant starting community from nothing, again. It would have been easier to stop trying. But easier is not the same as faithful.

Waiting for marriage in isolation makes the season feel heavier than it has to be.

Waiting for marriage surrounded by people who know your real story, pray with you honestly, and sharpen you when you need it - that's a completely different season to walk through.

With love and faith,
Zena