The Hancock-Henderson Quill, Inc.
Being alone has always been my lifestyle preference. Years ago, I ran across the name of a small town in Wyoming.
Why would I have any interest in Wyoming? Living in a state in which geysers outnumber people—that’s my idea of heaven.
Ready for the name? When I spotted this town, it was like a neon sign suddenly materialized, flashing ‘Come here! Come here!’
I pulled out the road atlas and immediately pointed out the town to April. She glanced at it and muttered something about ‘a dead body.’
Following came something about pigs flying. Her muttering ended with something about a snowball’s chance somewhere.
I got the message. Recluse, Wyoming (population 7) would never be my home. Even though April and I could positively increase the population of Recluse by a whopping 29%, it was not to be.
And that was good for me. Hebrews 10:24-25 reads this way: “And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encourage one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.”
One last sad story: Years ago, while enjoying supper one evening with my pastor, I declared I didn’t need church on Sunday mornings. I was doing fine spiritually on my own.
How wrong I was. Not only was I revealing my disobedience in following Hebrews 10:24-25, but I had become numb about what I needed.
Now, on Sunday mornings, when I sit with my teenagers in Sunday School, I’m filled with joy. They have questions which boggle the mind and ultimately lead back to God’s Word.
They are an encouragement to me, and I’m so pleased watching them mature in Christ.
In worship, I sing praises to our God. Actually, I enjoy hearing others singing praises rather than listening to my own voice. Also, my church family is blessed with a man who is wonderfully gifted in preaching and teaching from God’s Word.
On Wednesday mornings, I have the honor of leading a men’s Bible study at County Line Diner. We huddle around the table while we discuss Ecclesiastes.
We drink our favorite beverage and eat a scrumptious breakfast while studying one of the most depressing books of the Bible.
Yet, we find encouragement in it and with each other. It’s an excellent way to begin the day.
I belong to a team of men who are building in the lives of boys through a ministry called Kids Outdoor Zone.
We meet regularly to plan, to study God’s Word and to pray for one another. They have become my brothers, and they always have my back.
It saddens my heart to watch believers in Christ become mere ‘church attenders.’ They show up relatively regularly on Sunday mornings, sit in the pew, participate in the process.
Upon their exit, they have no contact with any other member of the church family until the next time they show up on Sunday morning.
You can call me judgmental, but that used to be me. I’m qualified to speak about it. They don’t know what they’re missing. Any sort of obligatory attendance ends in emptiness. I know because I lived it.
If only they could replace duty with desire. If only they would thirst for the exceeding value of coming together with fellow believers on a regular basis.
Becoming a recluse does so much harm to a believer. Living as an isolated believer deadens him. He eventually falls for the lie that the occasional, complacent, hour-long involvement is sufficient. I lived that way until I discovered the emptiness of it.
We men are especially guilty of the temptation to withdraw into ourselves. In that state, we become numb and indifferent.
The spiritual side of our lives dies a slow death. Our only purpose is found in our secular job, and we grow to either hate it, resent it, or become enslaved to it.
The easy yoke of fellowship provides so much more. Kick the tires on it (meaning choose to be with people), and see if it isn’t so. Once you engage in meaningful fellowship, you will never go back.