I, like another handful of people at my church, had been attending the church for as long as I could remember. The people I saw on Sundays were people I had played with in nursery and people that saw all the horrible middle school fashion choices I made. They were people who knew my life inside and out and people who became my second family.

There was a point in my life where I was spending the majority of the week at my church. I attended Sunday service every week (I even came early and left late most weeks), went to small groups on Wednesday nights, spent almost every Saturday afternoon rehearsing with the worship team for service the next day, and it was not a surprise if I was there on Fridays as well for some sort of event preparation. I was involved in the student leadership, as well as the worship band as a keyboardist and so were the majority of my church friends that I had grown up with. It wasn’t rare for my friends and I to get dinner after a church event or Skype at night to just talk about life and hang out. Although as we got older and we started to have less time to interact as closely as we used to, the camaraderie we had was still there.

I didn’t realize how rare this type of community was. We had our differences and there were definitely conflicts during our time together, but what I realized was that most importantly, we were growing, both individually and together, and supporting each other every step of the way.

Sure, I learned a lot about my faith while attending church regularly, but I think the most important thing I learned during these eighteen years was the importance of fellowship.

People often associate fellowship with religion, but Merriam-Webster defines fellowship as a “community of interest, activity, feeling, or experience” and “a company of equals or friends.” My youth group was full of people from a wide range of backgrounds, interests, and experiences, but we all came together under one interest (which happened to be our religion) and provided a supportive community for each other.

I learned that everyone needs a group of individuals that they can call home and that even one supportive friend can make your life more meaningful. Growing up in this community taught me that I also needed to be that person to those around me. Fellowship is not possible unless each member of the community makes an effort to make the community feel like home. For us, that was what those countless hours spent cutting paper for event decorations and McDonald’s runs were for — they gave us more opportunities to laugh, learn, and experience life with each other.