By Michelle Lonaberger
Guest Columnist
RevMarkCreech.org/Return America
The photo I took shows a foot-shaped dark spot on the floor. It’s the same size as my right foot because that’s exactly where my right foot went through. I was visiting an area flooded by Hurricane Helene last year, and discovered the hard way that the floor of one of the buildings had rotted out far more than anyone realized.
Had I been alone, I might have fallen completely through. But I wasn’t. Another person was close enough to reach me – close enough to catch me before I disappeared into that gaping hole. At that moment, the truth of Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 was proved: “Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.“
That slight, literal fall has lingered in my mind for days now – not because of the bruise on my ankle, but because of the lesson it underscored about human connection.
So often I hear people say, “I’m better off alone.” They speak it as a declaration of strength, but most times it’s really a confession of hurt. Somewhere along the way, someone disappointed them. Someone betrayed a trust, broke a heart, or walked away without explanation. So, they build walls and call them boundaries; they keep people at arm’s length and call it peace. I know this because I’ve done it.
But the truth is, isolating ourselves doesn’t protect us from pain. It only guarantees a deeper kind of agony later. God never designed us to live independently. Even in the perfection of Eden, before sin entered the world, the Lord said, “It is not good that the man should be alone.” (Genesis 2:18)
If Adam needed a companion in the perfect world of Eden, how much more do we need one in a fallen world?
God’s design for relationships goes beyond marriage. He gives us friends who “bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2). But they can’t help us carry what we refuse to share, and we can’t share anything while keeping everyone at arm’s length.
That doesn’t mean every person should know our private struggles. It means that to live victoriously, we must have people beside us – trusted, spiritually mature companions who remind us of truth when we can’t see it for ourselves, who catch us before we fall through the rotted places of life.
I’ve been there – hurt so deeply that breathing felt like labor, betrayed by those I thought would never turn away, watching lifelong plans crumble into dust. I’ve known the sting of abuse, the ache of loss, and the confusion of unanswered “whys.” I’ve also known the dangerous solitude of trying to be “Miss Independent.”
I’ve also seen the other side of the coin. For every wound, God sends a blessing. For every disappointment, He sends someone who reflects His grace. For every misstep, He provides someone close enough to steady me.
That day in the flooded building, my companion sensed I was about to take a wrong step before I did, and reached out just in time. I shudder to think of what might have happened otherwise.
I thank God for the people who have done the same for me spiritually – those who caught me before I fell through something far more dangerous than a rotten floor: the pitfalls of bitterness, pride, or despair.
So, when I look at that picture and see the dark, foot-shaped hole, I don’t just see a near accident. I see a reminder: life was never meant to be lived alone. God places people close enough to catch us and asks us to be close enough to catch them, too.
Michelle Lonaberger is the secretary to Dr. Ron Baity, president of Return America.
