Most of us like the idea of community. We love the concept of having people around us, doing life together, helping each other out. But the truth is, we usually want it on our terms. We want people who agree with us, don’t annoy us, don’t interrupt our plans, and never need too much from us. But that’s not real community. That’s control.
See, real community is great… right up until it’s not. Until someone says something dumb. Until someone lets you down. Until someone you trusted disappears when you need them most. That’s when most of us do what we’ve trained ourselves to do: we retreat. We pull back. We saddle up and ride solo because it’s safer, quieter, simpler. Nobody can disappoint you if you don’t let them close enough.
But God never designed life to be lived that way. From Abraham’s camp in the desert to that ragtag crew of fishermen Jesus called friends, God’s plan has always been people. Messy, imperfect, grace-needing people. You and me, bumping into each other, learning from each other, sharpening each other, and sometimes wounding each other… but still walking with Him together.
This three-day devotional is going to press into that truth. We’re going to look at what happens when we push people away, when we get pushed out, and when God steps into the middle of the whole relational mess. Because He does. He always does.
And maybe... just maybe... what feels like a relational disaster right now is actually the place where God is going to rebuild something deeper, stronger, and truer than you’ve ever experienced before.
Day 1: When You’d Rather Ride Alone
Scripture: Genesis 21:8–10
Sarah’s story is way more familiar than most of us want to admit. She waited decades for God to come through. She prayed the prayers, cried the tears, lived with the ache of “not yet.” And when God finally did it, when the miracle actually showed up, all that old fear, jealousy, and insecurity came bubbling right back up to the surface.
And man, that’s what fear does. It whispers, “You'd better take control. You'd better manage this before it falls apart again.” So we do what Sarah did. We start deciding who gets close enough to hurt us, who we’ll keep at arm’s length, and who we’ll cut out completely. We might call it “boundaries,” but sometimes it’s just self-protection. We tell ourselves it’s wisdom, but deep down, it’s fear.
And it feels safe for a while. It feels like control. But what it really is… is isolation. It’s sitting around, wondering why nobody reaches out, when we’ve already built the walls that keep them from getting in.
The truth is, you can’t have it both ways. You can’t control community and still experience it. You can’t lock people out and still expect to be known. At some point, you’ve got to loosen your grip, stop managing the mess, and trust that God can handle the hearts of the people around you better than you can.
Because the same God who gave Sarah her promise is the same God who’s still saying, “Trust Me. I know what I’m doing. You don’t have to control it. You just have to stay.”
Application:
Ask yourself: Who have I been keeping at arm’s length because it feels safer? This week, take one small risk to reconnect: send a text, give a lunch invite, or have a conversation you’ve been avoiding.
Prayer:
God, I confess that I like control more than trust. Help me let go of fear and open my heart to the people You’ve put in my life. Teach me to ride with others, even when it feels risky. Amen.
Day 2: Use What You Have
Scripture: Genesis 21:14–16
Hagar’s story hits different, doesn’t it? Because she didn’t ask for any of this. She didn’t sign up to be used, to be blamed, to be sent packing with nothing but a water skin and a kid on her hip. She just woke up one day and found herself in the wilderness, abandoned by the people who should’ve had her back.
And maybe that’s you. Maybe you didn’t choose the season you’re in. You didn’t choose the betrayal, the breakup, the silence. You didn’t choose to be left out of the text thread or the small group, or the plans. You didn’t choose the diagnosis or the disappointment. But here you are: sitting in the dry place, wondering if anybody sees you.
The wilderness can be brutal… but listen: it’s not empty. God shows up there. Every. Single. Time. Scripture says He found her. He did not “stumble upon her,” nor did he “notice her by accident.” No, He found her. That means He was looking for her. He knew exactly where she was.
And in that place of heartbreak and exhaustion, God didn’t lecture her. He didn’t tell her to get over it or toughen up. He entered her pain. He called her by name. The same name Abraham and Sarah had probably stopped saying out loud. And then He did what only He can do: He gave her direction, provision, and hope.
Some of you are right there, in your own kind of wilderness. You’re worn out from trying to find belonging. You’re tired of putting yourself out there and getting let down. But hear me, God hasn’t forgotten you. He’s not waiting for you to pull yourself together or fix your situation. He’s just waiting for you to lift your eyes, like Hagar did, and realize He’s been right there the whole time. Because even in the middle of your wilderness, you’re not alone. You’re found.
Application:
Who do you need to forgive for pushing you out? Or maybe… where do you need to invite God into your loneliness? Take ten minutes today and tell Him honestly how you feel. Then listen.
Prayer:
God, thank You for seeing me when no one else does. Help me trust that You’re still with me in the wilderness. Open my eyes to Your presence and remind me that I’m not alone. Amen.
Day 3: When God Steps Into the Mess
Scripture: Genesis 21:17–19
Both of these women, Sarah and Hagarr, were standing knee-deep in a mess that no one could untangle. And honestly, it wasn’t just a “women’s issue.” Abraham’s right there in it too, fumbling his way through trying to keep the peace and manage everyone’s emotions. It’s what happens when pride, fear, and hurt start running the show: relationships start to break down, trust starts to crack, and community starts to crumble.
But here’s the good news: that’s exactly the kind of ground God loves to walk on. He doesn’t wait for us to sweep it up or figure it out. He meets us right in the middle of the chaos.
He looked at Sarah, controlling, defensive, trying to make sure no one else could hurt her again, and said, “You don’t have to run this. My promises don’t need your plan; they just need your trust.”
Then He looked at Hagar, rejected, used, and sitting in the desert, thinking she’d been erased, and said, “I see you. You still matter. You’re still part of My story.”
That’s who God is. He doesn’t take sides; He takes over.
He’s still doing it today. In the friendships that went sideways. In a marriage that feels more like a cold war than a covenant. In the church where you feel overlooked or forgotten. God’s still reminding us: He’s bigger than the community we think we messed up.
And maybe that’s what we all need to remember: He’s not scared of our mess. He’s not pacing heaven, wondering how to fix our relationships. He’s sitting right in the middle of it, saying, “If you’ll trust Me, I can bring something beautiful out of this broken thing.”
Application:
Think about your relationships. Are you more like Sarah, holding on too tight, or Hagar, feeling left out? Write it down, and take one next step toward trust. Maybe it’s an apology, a reconnection, or just showing up again.
Prayer:
God, thank You for stepping into my mess. Teach me to trust You with my people, the ones who hurt me, the ones I’ve hurt, and the ones You’re still bringing into my life. Make me a person of grace. Amen.
The wild thing about community is that it never works the way we want it to. People disappoint us. People say the wrong thing. People let us down. People do exactly what we hoped they wouldn’t. It’s messy. It’s unpredictable. It’s awkward.
But God’s ways aren’t our ways. And the way He works through people, through community, is always better than the easy, controlled life we try to create on our own. He uses the friction, the tension, the misunderstandings, and even the failures to shape us into people who love like Jesus. Into people who can give grace when it’s hard, forgive when it hurts, and stay present when everything in us wants to ride solo.
So here’s the call: don’t retreat this week. Don’t play it safe. Saddle up with others, even when it’s uncomfortable, even when it’s slow, even when it’s messy. Invite someone into your day, into your lunch, into your living room, into your life. Take the risk of being known, of being humbled, of being used.
Because here’s the promise: when you do, you’ll see God show up in ways you can’t plan, can’t control, and couldn’t do alone. He meets us right in the middle of the mess, and that’s where transformation happens, that’s where hearts change, that’s where grace multiplies.
Community isn’t perfect. But it is where God does His best work. Saddle up. Stay in the ride. Watch Him move.