When fellowship isn't comfortable
At church on Sunday, we talked about a word I had never heard before: koinonia. Little did I know, this was a word that I've been clinging onto.
A quick Google search of the Greek word "koinonia" will lead you to this definition: Christian fellowship or communion, with God or, more commonly, with fellow Christians.
1 John 1:1-10 was the passage that our pastor based his sermon on. This particular passage, which you can read for yourself here, discusses the importance of fellowship. We're quick to love fellowship when it's short-term; like a meal out together, a cup of coffee, or something that doesn't allow us to get much deeper than the surface. More "Here's how great my life is going" and less of "How is it with your soul? Really and truly, how is it?"
Fellowship isn't always comfortable. Love is not always pretty. Living life and choosing community does not always come wrapped in nice box with a bow like a Christmas present. Sometimes, it feels like swimming in mud. It can be tears and heartbreak. Mostly, it's speaking against the darkness. It's choosing love when it's easier to run. It's choosing to speak true identity into others when we can't see it in ourselves. It's learning how to be a bridge from loneliness into fellowship. From darkness into the light. It is being a helping hand and an open ear... And letting others do the same for you. It can stretch us and challenge us - which is exactly what the body of Christ is called to do.
I talk a lot about community, but this has been my heart cry for the past several months. To know and be known. To love and be loved. So I've been learning community. I've been learning how to love, and love well. How to let go, and how to love through differences. How to be honest and vulnerable and live into the wisdom that the Holy Spirit gives.
Healing is hard. Rebuilding is hard. We are houses, every single one of us. We are houses turning into homes, but we need help to get there. Does one person build a house from the ground up? No. There’s a team: there’s people that lay the foundation, there’s people that put up the walls, there’s people that work on the interior. Different people work on the plumbing, on the electricity, on the crown moulding. You cannot rebuild your own foundation. Building a home takes work, takes effort, takes community. We have to let other people help make us a home.
We have to let other people in. We have to learn how to bend and break and be together. You're not alone, and not meant to be. Let's break bread together. Let's live life together, walking in the light of the Father's love.
Between the Shadow and the Soul: Blogging through the journey.