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A 62-year-old widow. Two 20something bachelors. A 40something never-married woman. A 27-year-old spokesperson for sexual purity. No, this isn't the lineup for a new ill-fated dating reality show. It's a list of some of the people I've met in the past two weeks. In all of these encounters, I've been amazed at how different our lives are and yet how well our shared experiences and perspectives as single people helped bridge those gaps.

The 27 year old and I swapped the titles of our favorite romantic comedies and talked about coming to grips with the possibility of never getting married. The bachelors and I were in a class discussion at church about how difficult it can be to feel like part of a community as a single person. The 40something and I chatted about our shifting expectations over the years and the joys of being an aunt. And the 62 year old and I shared tears over the loss of her wonderful husband two short years ago, and I tried to encourage her in her surprise and somewhat scary new journey into singleness.

I admit I like meeting new people—single or married. I love the way interacting with others who've had a different walk through life from mine broadens my paradigm. But there's something special that happens when, in the course of our nice-to-meet-yous, the person on the other end of that handshake and I realize we're both spouseless. Suddenly we know we're reading from the same script. The cast of characters and setting may be different, but many of the plot lines are identical, or at least parallel.

And, I've come to realize, a large part of the special bond stems from our shared pain. We've known the same frustrations, loneliness, unmet expectations, and fears about the future. We know that beneath the welcoming smile, the person we're meeting has shared some of our hurt in this broken world. And again, in these meaningful meetings, we get to experience God bringing beauty from ashes, joy from our pain (Isaiah 61:3).

I've long sung the praises of the part our single friends play in our life. Not too long ago I was reminded of their essential role when a single friend of mine "babysat" me the night of a painful breakup. As soon as she heard what had happened, she arrived on my doorstep with chocolate and a funny (non-romantic—not an easy find!) movie. She listened, consoled, and understood—because she experienced her own painful breakup last year. Because she'd been there, she understood the pain of letting go of one so cared for, of being back at square one. There was much I didn't have to explain; this single sister just knew. And in that knowing, she shared some of my pain and therefore diffused it.

I've also learned that being real has a lot to do with experiencing the full blessing of the fellowship of the ringless. Each time we talk about the hard parts of being single—lonely Sunday afternoons, wedding invites from people a decade younger than us, the 376th question about why we're not married, missing someone we haven't met yet—with someone who gets it, we're no longer alone when those difficult moments roll around again. Each time I unpack one of these hurts in the presence of a single brother or sister, my load is shared and lightened. Suddenly, the next time I'm on the receiving end of an insensitive question about my single state, my unmarried friends are there with me in spirit, rolling their eyes and laughing along at the absurdity of it all.

Of course, if we're only talking about the tough moments, we're sharing only half of the single experience with our friends and new acquaintances. I don't want my unmarried friends to be just gripe buddies, and I don't want all my talk about this life stage to be negative—or eventually it will feel only negative. That's why over the past couple weeks, I enjoyed chatting about the joys of being an aunt with one new friend, and the sometimes-delicious reality that if God's got a spouse in our future, we still get to experience that first meeting, first date, first hand-holding, first kiss. One new single friend shared about going into business for herself, a scary new venture as she has no one to fall back on if it fails. But knowing this risk and admiring her guts, I was able to cheer her on in this solo adventure. And I love how single friends and I can spontaneously do dinner after work or suddenly agree to watch a favorite TV show together either at one of our homes or over the phone.

Perhaps one of the biggest blessings we can be to one another in our community of single people is helping ease the transition to this life stage for those who suddenly find themselves thrust into it. Whether it was divorce or the death of a spouse, whatever forces someone to join our ranks is painful. And these folks need our empathy, reassurance, and camaraderie as they completely shift gears in life. With the widow with whom I recently chatted, I listened to her grief and surprise at being suddenly single at her age, related to her single struggles thus far, and relayed some of the great things about this life stage she has yet to experience. It was gratifying to be able to say, "You can do this," because in sharing this encouragement and truth, I'm reminded that I can do this. As singles, I would go so far as to say it's our responsibility to meet these people in their pain and walk with them through this huge transition. What better reason to be living a well-rounded and abundant single life and to have conversations regularly seasoned with the blessings of this stage than to be able to reassure these hurting souls that singleness can be a great gig.

And as for the diversity within our single ranks—from single new college grads, to 30somethings with BONGing biological clocks, to 40something single dads, to 50something divorcees, to 60something widows and widowers—it reminds me of the way the body of Christ is supposed to function. Though our shared single state may bind us together, our different paths through or to singleness can add some of that multifaceted richness. I can benefit from the wide-eyed romanticism of early 20somethings, I can listen to the lessons of divorce, I can see and prepare for what's to come by looking to single folks a few steps further down life's path from me. And in so doing, we're functioning as our own "body with many members," using our unique experiences and gifts to bless the whole, as described in Romans 12. As we function as this body, we can take part in a truth I've often felt left out of as a single person, but have come to realize certainly is intended for those of us in the fellowship of the ringless as well: "Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A chord of three strands is not quickly broken" (Ecclesiastes 4:12).

Camerin welcomes your feedback and brainstorms at: SinglesNewsletter@ChristianityToday.com

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Read more from 'Single Minded'

Table For One: The Savvy Girl's Guide to Singleness by Camerin Courtney You'll love this book by the Singles Channel's own Camerin Courtney! It's an honest and upbeat look at the emotions, expectations, joys, frustrations, and privileges of the single life, that will delight and inspire you! Buy it today!