I'm glad you're here. This conversation about loneliness is important, especially as we continue to navigate the uncharted waters of continual quarantine due to COVID-19.
In the first post of this series, we acknowledged that loneliness is part of the human condition. Since we are no longer in the Garden of Eden, we are aware of our separation from God and from each other. We experience loneliness because something is broken. If quarantine life has you feeling a little bit broken, you're not the only one -- you're normal. :)
So how should we handle our loneliness? Once we acknowledge its presence, what do we do with it?
Now, I don't claim to have any kind of corner on the market here, but as an introvert who lives alone and has lived far away from my family/social structures from childhood, I can tell you I've walked some dark paths with loneliness. Maybe you have too. Or, maybe today's the day. You didn't realize it when the new year rang in, but somebody signed you up for a long walk through this season and you're not quite sure where it's going. I get it. I am with you.
There isn't a formula to expelling loneliness, really. In fact, I'm going to encourage you not to wish it away so fast. The feeling of emptiness may nag you, but if you sit with it, there's learning to be done. And it may be some of the most important learning you do about yourself in your lifetime. Your loneliness is a gift. Yes, you read that right. Hang with me...
Elisabeth Elliot wrote a phenomenal little book called "Finding Your Way Through Loneliness" that changed my perspective drastically. She encouraged those of us experiencing loneliness to remember that inasmuch as fatigue is common to parents of little kids and uncertainty is common to young adults who are just figuring out their career, loneliness is just part of the territory for those of us not-yet-married or experiencing the loss of a close loved one. She wrote the book after losing her second husband to cancer and her first to a brutal murder by the very people she and her husband came to teach about Jesus. She knew loss, she knew loneliness, and through it all, she KNEW God's everlasting love as the primary comfort. I was so encouraged by her calm approach -- she did not wish it away, but instead trusted that the same God who takes away will also continue to be the same God who gave a good gift in the first place.
We would also be wise to remember that just because we feel a lack of something (like people-time) it doesn't mean we HAVE to fill it. Part of loneliness' power is in how empty it can make us feel. But what if empty also means free, available, and capable of adapting?
The apostle Paul wrote about how he handled the complexity of ministry alone in his letter to the Philippians. Chapter two tells us about how he was adapting to the prison sentence that eventually led to his death. He writes, "But I will rejoice even if I lose my life, pouring it out like a liquid offering to God, just like your faithful service is an offering to God. And I want all of you to share that joy." (Philippians 2:17) He knew that even if this didn't go the way he wanted and he ended up dying alone for preaching the Gospel, God would be glorified and it should cause others to rejoice that his life was so pleasing to God up until the very end. He was determined not to let his feelings run the ministry God had called him to.
When life is uncertain, it can be easy to let our emotions run a little more wild. We just want to know when this will end and how life will look on the other side of the difficulty. But I think Paul's example gives us something to ponder: what if we really can find joy WHILE we're lonely, unsettled, and waiting on God? What if it's not one or the other, but both?
I began to put this into practice after reading Mrs. Elliot's book because I realized my tendency was to focus on what I didn't like and then become somewhat envious of what others' had. I could admit to myself, "I'm lonely -- I wish I had a family to care for." And that was a step... but it wasn't the whole truth. The whole truth was this: I am sometimes lonely because I live alone, which was my choice. But I am also free to be helpful to families around me, to serve my church in unique ways, and to be a really good friend to people in my life. These things are incredibly fulfilling! And once I pressed into the freedom portion instead of dwelling on what's empty, it changed everything. Similarly, the young momma's I was tempted to envy may never really experience loneliness like me. They may say their lives are full -- but if they're honest, "Full" means full of really great moments and really hard ones that come with raising a family and overall, a different type of freedom. A full life does not equate to total bliss -- that was an assumption I was making and it simply wasn't true.
I'm convinced that loneliness only really takes root in our hearts when we aren't willing to acknowledge the both/and nature of relationships. When envy accompanies a sense of lack, it can be easy to believe "If I just had ... THEN I would be happy." In allowing this thought to capture our minds, we set our hearts on a thing and not God's goodness. We subtly begin to worship creation instead of our Creator. We exchange an opportunity for growth for a sense of entitlement to have life my way... but this is not the way it works in God's economy.
He gives AND takes away.
He blesses AND he curses.
Life after Genesis three but before Heaven is both beautiful AND hard.
The single life is simpler AND more lonely.
The married/married with kids life is full of higher highs AND lower lows.
I bet if you thought about it, quarantine life has you both more rested AND more exhausted, more aware of safety AND more scared than you've been in a while, more thankful AND more prayerful about the future.
It's both. God knows. He's right here in the complexity with us.
If we make this season about living as comfortably as possible without acknowledging and inviting God into the reality that we're all a little lonely, we will have missed 50% of the opportunity to know Him better. I'm thoroughly convinced that knowing God better will be an outcome of Covid, at least for me. Living alone has shown me some of my quick-but-unhelpful comfort strategies are really just pacifiers for the real thing. I don't want that for you. The presence of God while reading the Bible and praying is so much better than any comfort food or TV show you could imagine. Don't ignore the craving -- but fill it with what we actually need: more of Christ. The greatest gift God can give us is Himself. And if it takes a little loneliness for us to realize that, then yes -- loneliness is a gift. Don't be afraid to unwrap it. It's really not so scary. It's just an on-ramp to something better than any relationship could ever yield. I promise. I know it first-hand.
But why do we long for comfort in the first place? Why do we innately seek comfort?
Part 3 coming at you in just a few days... :)
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