Unbelievers often see Christian fellowship as some gloomy, boring friendship with ritualised routine—they don’t know what fun we have in godly companionship. Doing life together is powerful—it’s a God-centred experience you can’t afford to miss.
The early Church understood this. They broke bread from house to house (Acts 2:46), and you get the sense it wasn’t a solemn march—it was a house party without end. Joy, food, fellowship, and faith were woven into everyday life. Their togetherness wasn’t just social—it was spiritual, practical, and powerful. As Acts records, “They ate together with glad and sincere hearts.” Joy overflowed—not in isolation, but in community.
I’ve discovered the same on short missions. What made Oasis Mission trips unforgettable wasn’t just the work we did, but how we did it together. My wife has a gift for turning what could feel like a duty into a shared adventure. Her outlook shapes the whole atmosphere. We don’t endure the task—we enjoy it. Her simple motto is: ‘Remember, Jesus cooked breakfast for his disciples on the beach—even while they were on mission.’ (John 21:9–12). There’s joy in the journey when hearts are knit. There’s power when laughter mixes with prayer, when shared burdens lead to shared breakthroughs. Life in Christ is not just meant to be lived—it’s meant to be shared.
The Bible doesn’t idolise individualism. The journey of faith is strengthened through relationships—friendships forged in obedience, trials shared in prayer, and victories multiplied in fellowship. Whether in hardship or harvest, the joy of the Lord often flows through the people he places beside us. “Two are better than one… If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.” Ecclesiastes 4:9–10
Whenever I look back on the moments in my life that brought true joy and renewed my strength, they are rarely moments spent alone. They are adventures I’ve shared with companions in Christ—faith-filled journeys, heartfelt prayers, unexpected miracles, and even the laughter we found in the middle of trials. There’s a unique strength that comes when you walk with others who carry the same fire. In those moments, burdens feel lighter, joy runs deeper, and God’s presence feels nearer.
It’s one thing to witness the power of God in your life, but it’s another level of joy when you get to talk about it with someone who was there with you. The disciples came back from their first mission rejoicing—‘even the demons obey us in your name!’ (Luke 10:17). It wasn’t pride; it was shared wonder. They had stepped out in faith together, and now they were laughing, celebrating, and marvelling at what God had done.
I imagine Paul and Silas, perhaps years later, chuckling as they remembered the prison gates swinging open after their midnight song. Or Peter and John reminiscing about that moment at the Beautiful Gate, when a man born lame leapt to his feet. These weren’t just miracles—they were memories. Holy memories. The kind that make you smile even in your old age, not because you were strong, but because you weren’t alone. God was with you—and so was someone else who believed.
Imagine the shared laughter between Paul and Silas after the prison shook open (Acts 16:25–26). Picture the look on their faces when they realised they were free, not by negotiation or legal appeal, but by worship. Think of the inside jokes they might have had after Paul was lowered through a basket (Acts 9:25)—a dramatic escape, but also one that probably left them shaking their heads at God’s ways. These weren’t just moments of survival; they were memories forged in faith.
There is a hidden strength behind Paul’s resilience: companionship in faith. It’s easy to read the bold declarations and weighty exhortations in Paul’s letters and forget that he was a man who laughed, cried, got tired, and leaned on others. When he opens the letter of 2 Thessalonians with “Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy,” he’s not just naming co-workers; he’s pointing to his spiritual family—men who journeyed with him through danger, revival, rejection, and joy. 🙂
Life in Christ is not just meant to be lived—it’s meant to be shared.
So don’t settle for a solitary walk. Open your heart, your home, your table. Let others in on the journey. Some of your deepest joy, strength, and growth will come not in isolation, but in those holy, ordinary moments shared with fellow travellers. Laugh together. Pray together. Serve together. For when we live this way—loving one another well—they’ll know we’ve been with Jesus. And we’ll know it too.
Author
kay.alli@legalview.co.uk