Since when did Starbucks stores become a Bible study hotspot? Not long ago, I walked into one shortly after 7 a.m. to meet with a friend. I was early, so I ordered coffee and sat down. As I got comfortable at my table, I looked around the shop. Right in front of me sat a group of five men, tucked in to their table, deep in conversation, each one with a Bible open in front of him. (Well, four had a Bible; the youngest guy had a laptop.)

I looked behind me, and over by the window was another group of five men—again, each with a Bible and each intently focused on the conversation. My heart was warmed, and I hadn’t even tasted the coffee yet. These two groups of guys made me crave the fellowship, encouragement and accountability of men who love Jesus.

At times I’ve been an island, content to go through life without many close friends outside my own family. Then, in my mid-30s, I decided I’d had enough of “going it alone.” My family and I had just moved to Virginia, and I was determined to connect with a group of men who would encourage me in my faith—and whom I could encourage. I had been part of men’s Bible studies before and had met in accountability groups, but I never felt that close bond I was seeking, the ability to just be real and share my life with guys who would accept me when I was strong and when I struggled.

Fairly quickly, I met two Christian guys, Mike and Bill, who didn’t know each other, and I asked them if they’d meet with me weekly for breakfast, conversation and prayer. They agreed, and we became Friday morning regulars at IHOP, talking through books on parenting, leadership, love languages and faith. We never left the restaurant without praying for each other’s specific needs of the week. What a difference those guys made in my life.

Being new in a community (as I am now, having just moved back to Colorado Springs) presents challenges to building relationships. But last week I attended a gathering of ministry leaders and met many new people. Near the end of the day-long meeting, I mentioned that I was looking for connection, both personally and professionally. The result is that one of the attendees has connected five of us who will get together monthly to become a source of encouragement and support for one another. Our first lunch is in two weeks, and I’m looking forward to it.

If you’re an island, you’re at risk. And even though it took me a while to learn and accept that fact, I know I need other guys in my life to walk with me and hold me up. I encourage you to “just do it” if you’re not in a small group now. Even one or two others can provide the encouragement I believe God intended when He acknowledged in Ecclesiastes 4:9–12 that “two are better than one.”

As I sat there in Starbucks, conversations about Jesus echoed across the shop, clear as a bell in the noisy store. If I could hear it, at least six other people outside their group could hear it. These guys weren’t about keeping their faith a secret. They were there to grow, give, receive and build a community—a “tribe” if you will—that will walk with them and keep them from being isolated. What are you doing to avoid being an island?