3.Fellowship Life

Strictly speaking, when we are centered in God—when we have built our relationship with Him in solitude—we gradually become aware of the necessity of living in fellowship with other believers. It is worth noting that the fruit of solitude with God often leads us into fellowship. In solitude, you realize that you belong to a family, and naturally, you begin to desire to share responsibilities with others.

What I mean by fellowship life is not simply a formal organization. I am referring to smaller communities such as families, friends, parishes, study groups, or prayer circles. Fellowship is not an institution, but a way of life: gathering with brothers and sisters to encourage one another and to remind each other that we are God’s beloved children.

But fellowship life is not easy. Someone once said, “Fellowship is the place where you are forced to live with the person you least want to be with.” Even in Jesus’ own community of the twelve apostles, the last one He called was the very one who would later betray Him. There is always such a person in every fellowship. And in the eyes of others, you yourself might be that very person.

The fellowship I belong to is called Daybreak—a community where people with intellectual disabilities, along with those who assist them, live together. There are more than a hundred such communities around the world. We face the challenges of daily life together. Nathan, Janet, and many others in our community know how hard it is to live together, and yet how beautiful it can be.

Why is it so important to begin with solitude with God before entering fellowship? Because unless we first know ourselves as God’s beloved sons and daughters, we will try to draw that sense of identity from other people. But only God can give us that deep assurance of worth. Human beings cannot satisfy that longing. If we enter fellowship without first being rooted in God’s love, we will expect others to provide the perfect, unconditional love that only God can give. Fellowship then becomes not one lonely person saying to another lonely person, “I am lonely, and you are lonely,” but rather one child of God joining with another child of God and saying, “I am God’s beloved, you are God’s beloved, and together we can create a home.” Perhaps you are already close to that kind of fellowship, and that is truly wonderful. At times, you may not feel much love, and it can be very difficult. But even then, we can still faithfully create such a home, leaving space in our hearts for God and also for our brothers and sisters.

The norms of fellowship life include mutual forgiveness and mutual appreciation. In marriage, in friendships, or in any form of community, every fellowship requires forgiveness and the recognition of one another’s gifts.

What is forgiveness? Forgiveness means allowing others not to be God. The one who forgives says, “I know you love me, but you do not need to love me unconditionally—because as human beings, that is impossible.”

We all carry scars. We all suffer pain. In truth, behind every success lies hidden loneliness; behind every compliment lies an inner voice telling us we are useless. Even when others praise us, we may secretly believe we have no worth. That is why we sometimes depend on others to fill a void that only God’s unconditional love can satisfy.

When we try to draw from others what only God can give, we become destructive. We say, “Love me!”—but before long, we turn into demanding, controlling, even cruel people. That is why constant forgiveness is so crucial. Not occasional forgiveness, but an ongoing attitude of forgiveness, minute by minute. Before breakfast each morning, you should already have forgiven others at least three times—because in your heart you are already imagining how they will see you, respond to you, or even take advantage of you.

When others can only offer you a little love, you must learn to forgive—that is indeed very hard. And because we can only give others a little love ourselves, we also need to ask for forgiveness—equally difficult. To honestly tell your child, your spouse, or your friend, “I cannot give you all the love you need,” is not easy. But when we live with an attitude of forgiveness and with no unrealistic demands on others, true fellowship can be formed.

The second norm is to appreciate one another’s gifts. If you can forgive and understand that others cannot give you the love only God can give, then you will begin to cherish their limited love as a reflection of God’s perfect love. “Love one another as I have loved you.” When we know God’s love for us first, we can then recognize in others’ love a mirror of that perfect love. We can then truly appreciate and even exclaim, “Wow, this love is beautiful!”

In our community Daybreak, forgiveness and appreciation are part of daily life. Forgiveness is always followed by appreciation and praise. In those whom society calls “the weak,” we see beauty and gifts. With an attitude of forgiveness and appreciation, fellowship becomes a place of encouragement, where we say to one another, “You are God’s beloved daughter, you are God’s beloved son.”

Appreciation is not about shallow compliments like, “Your piano playing is improving,” or “You sing beautifully.” That reduces fellowship to a talent show.

True appreciation is full acceptance of a person. It is not simply greeting someone with a smile and small talk. It is about knowing and caring deeply. Someone who appears weak in the world’s eyes may flourish in love. And through others’ weaknesses, you may also discover your own.

Many people in the world live under the pressure of self-rejection: “I am not good enough; I am useless; nobody really cares; if I weren’t wealthy, they wouldn’t talk to me; if I didn’t have this job, they wouldn’t call me; if I didn’t have influence, they wouldn’t love me.” Outwardly successful people may inwardly struggle to accept themselves. In fellowship life, however, we learn to share our weaknesses honestly, forgive one another, and at the same time appreciate one another’s strengths.

Since coming to Daybreak, I have learned much. I have discovered that my true gifts are not that I can write books or that I went to university. My real gifts have been revealed to me by Janet, Nathan, and others who know me well—not by those who admire my achievements. Sometimes they even say, “I have a good suggestion: maybe you should read your own books again!” (meaning that even though I write, I too need to be reminded of the truth I have written).

When I acknowledge my weakness, impatience, and shortcomings, healing from the Lord follows. Suddenly I realize that even to those who have never read my books and who care nothing about my success, I can still be a good person. These friends continue to forgive my little acts of self-centeredness again and again.