How many friends do you have?
How many friends do you have on Facebook? And how many followers do you have on Instagram? Just take these two for now. What is that total number? Sure, there will be some overlap, but is the number over 300? 500? 1,000? 2,000?
I recently saw a Facebook post from an adult that said “I could use a word (or 50!) of encouragement.” The account has over 1.8K friends and the post received 42 comments.
Now add in Twitter, Snapchat, and LinkedIn and the number could be much, much higher. Like on the way to the moon higher.
But, did you ever take a step back to think about how connected we all are and yet how disconnected we feel? We’ve got more “friends” than ever, but somehow we’re lonelier than a guy in a Minecraft server with PvP turned off.
And it’s not just adults feeling that way. Many of our kids, especially our gamers, are plugged into massive online communities. They’ve got Discord servers, group chats, and squads that stretch across time zones. And yet, for a lot of them, they don’t know a single person two doors down who shares their interests.
It’s insane. We can build entire virtual worlds, but somehow struggle to build friendships across the street.
Now, please don’t get me wrong. Gaming is amazing for connection. It’s teamwork, problem-solving, and communication. All the things we want our kids to learn. But when our only community exists in pixels, something starts to feel hollow. Like a hobbit hole without Bilbo.
I’ve been to conferences and gatherings that have lasted several days, necessitating the need to find food. Unfortunately, this leads to food court style meals for lunch and dinner, sometimes three or more days in a row. Ugh. While the variety is nice, these meals are far from ideal and not even close to our son’s homemade smoked brisket or my wife’s chicken crescent squares.
See, digital friendships can be like fast food. They’re convenient, they taste good in the moment, but if that’s all you’re living on, you’ll eventually crave something more nourishing. Something face-to-face, hand-to-hand, shoulder-to-shoulder..
Our kids might say, “But I am social!” Sure. But digital community isn’t the same as physical presence. It’s like having a hologram of a hug. It looks right, but it doesn’t heal the same.
From the very beginning, God wired us for real, in-person community. Genesis 2:18 says, “It is not good for man to be alone.”
And that wasn’t just about marriage. It was about the human condition. God, who walked with Adam in the garden, modeled presence. He talked with him and even had a relationship with him. Jesus did the same thing. He didn’t just send DMs from Heaven. He sat at tables. He broke bread. He touched the untouchable.
There’s a sacred power in showing up in person. A handshake can’t be replicated by an emoji. A shared laugh over pizza hits different than one over voice chat. And when faith enters the mix, when believers gather, play, and grow together, that’s when community transforms into something eternal.
So, how do we help our gamer kids (and maybe ourselves) rediscover that?
It starts small. Invite one of their gaming buddies over for an in-person game night. Visit a local gaming center or church that hosts esports or youth gaming events. Say hello to the parent who drops their kid off at the same spot every week. Volunteer your home to be the place where your kid’s friends can come and hang out. You might have to straighten up a bit, but it’s definitely worth it in the long run.
Because real-life community doesn’t just happen. It’s built. Intentionally. Shoulder-to-shoulder. One conversation, one laugh, one shared snack at a time.
And when our kids begin to experience both the thrill of online teamwork and the grounding of local connection, they gain something powerful: balance. They learn that the world beyond the screen is full of people who care, stories waiting to be lived, and faith that’s meant to be walked out together, not soloed.
At the end of the day, no matter where they are in life, every human heart is looking for what Adam needed in Genesis 2: connection, presence, belonging. Screens can show faces, but they can’t replace face-to-face.
So maybe the next time your kid logs off after a long gaming session, you could say:
“Hey, want to grab some ice cream or hit the park?” (And if they roll their eyes, that’s fine. That’s part of the ritual.)
But do it anyway. Because connection doesn’t start with agreement. It starts with showing up.
And who knows? Maybe one day, your gamer will realize that the best kind of XP doesn’t come from a controller at all. It comes from real-life community. Right here, in the neighborhood God placed them in.
Make the connection:
Work together with your player to create at least two shoulder-to-shoulder moments a week with their friends, either at your home, somewhere in the community, at your church, or somewhere else. Bonus points for getting entire families together.
Connecting gamers • Building communities • Creating champions
I recently saw a Facebook post from an adult that said “I could use a word (or 50!) of encouragement.” The account has over 1.8K friends and the post received 42 comments.
Now add in Twitter, Snapchat, and LinkedIn and the number could be much, much higher. Like on the way to the moon higher.
But, did you ever take a step back to think about how connected we all are and yet how disconnected we feel? We’ve got more “friends” than ever, but somehow we’re lonelier than a guy in a Minecraft server with PvP turned off.
And it’s not just adults feeling that way. Many of our kids, especially our gamers, are plugged into massive online communities. They’ve got Discord servers, group chats, and squads that stretch across time zones. And yet, for a lot of them, they don’t know a single person two doors down who shares their interests.
It’s insane. We can build entire virtual worlds, but somehow struggle to build friendships across the street.
Now, please don’t get me wrong. Gaming is amazing for connection. It’s teamwork, problem-solving, and communication. All the things we want our kids to learn. But when our only community exists in pixels, something starts to feel hollow. Like a hobbit hole without Bilbo.
I’ve been to conferences and gatherings that have lasted several days, necessitating the need to find food. Unfortunately, this leads to food court style meals for lunch and dinner, sometimes three or more days in a row. Ugh. While the variety is nice, these meals are far from ideal and not even close to our son’s homemade smoked brisket or my wife’s chicken crescent squares.
See, digital friendships can be like fast food. They’re convenient, they taste good in the moment, but if that’s all you’re living on, you’ll eventually crave something more nourishing. Something face-to-face, hand-to-hand, shoulder-to-shoulder..
Our kids might say, “But I am social!” Sure. But digital community isn’t the same as physical presence. It’s like having a hologram of a hug. It looks right, but it doesn’t heal the same.
From the very beginning, God wired us for real, in-person community. Genesis 2:18 says, “It is not good for man to be alone.”
And that wasn’t just about marriage. It was about the human condition. God, who walked with Adam in the garden, modeled presence. He talked with him and even had a relationship with him. Jesus did the same thing. He didn’t just send DMs from Heaven. He sat at tables. He broke bread. He touched the untouchable.
There’s a sacred power in showing up in person. A handshake can’t be replicated by an emoji. A shared laugh over pizza hits different than one over voice chat. And when faith enters the mix, when believers gather, play, and grow together, that’s when community transforms into something eternal.
So, how do we help our gamer kids (and maybe ourselves) rediscover that?
It starts small. Invite one of their gaming buddies over for an in-person game night. Visit a local gaming center or church that hosts esports or youth gaming events. Say hello to the parent who drops their kid off at the same spot every week. Volunteer your home to be the place where your kid’s friends can come and hang out. You might have to straighten up a bit, but it’s definitely worth it in the long run.
Because real-life community doesn’t just happen. It’s built. Intentionally. Shoulder-to-shoulder. One conversation, one laugh, one shared snack at a time.
And when our kids begin to experience both the thrill of online teamwork and the grounding of local connection, they gain something powerful: balance. They learn that the world beyond the screen is full of people who care, stories waiting to be lived, and faith that’s meant to be walked out together, not soloed.
At the end of the day, no matter where they are in life, every human heart is looking for what Adam needed in Genesis 2: connection, presence, belonging. Screens can show faces, but they can’t replace face-to-face.
So maybe the next time your kid logs off after a long gaming session, you could say:
“Hey, want to grab some ice cream or hit the park?” (And if they roll their eyes, that’s fine. That’s part of the ritual.)
But do it anyway. Because connection doesn’t start with agreement. It starts with showing up.
And who knows? Maybe one day, your gamer will realize that the best kind of XP doesn’t come from a controller at all. It comes from real-life community. Right here, in the neighborhood God placed them in.
Make the connection:
Work together with your player to create at least two shoulder-to-shoulder moments a week with their friends, either at your home, somewhere in the community, at your church, or somewhere else. Bonus points for getting entire families together.
Connecting gamers • Building communities • Creating champions
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