One of my good friends, E, often teases me for my non-existent social life. For possibly the first time ever, I have to (publicly) agree with him. I think pride often spoke for myself and loudly too. I refused to be made a fool for my limited interactions with people. I didn't want anyone's sympathy, so I made sure not a soul knew how I felt.
When I attempt to scratch at the surface of my environment, I am usually met with the common reply: "Wait, so you really have nobody you can talk to?" And after I (very reluctantly) answer in the affirmative, it is followed up by: "Wow, that sounds lonely." The sentence is coupled with a thick layer of sympathy and almost embarrassment, as if the person is afraid to prescribe my predicament. I cringed at the usage of the "l" word, because I hated sympathy. I didn't want anyone to think I was the kid that hid away at home 24/7 and held the majority of interactions through a computer screen. Truth be told, however, lonely described my predicament down to the t.
Is it because you're homeschooled, you ask. Maybe. Maybe not. You know the saying, "Lonely in a crowd"? The kind of lonely I experienced was like that. It didn't matter whether or not I had friends to see face-to-face on a regular basis. I could be anywhere with people all around me but still feel something was missing. It was like a large black hole in my heart that sucked and sucked, but could never be satisfied.
Last week, after listening to a riveting speech delivered by Dr. Ben Carson at the National Prayer Breakfast assembly, I understood my problem. (You can listen to it here. In my humble opinion, America needed to hear this.) Aside from enjoying the blank look on Mr. President's face, I was struck by something Dr. Carson mentioned in his speech. He touched briefly on how we are often victimized by our environment and society. More specifically, we allow other people or things to tell us how we feel about something, or who we are, and with every fiber in our being, we believe it. We eat it all up.
Here's my confession. Hours earlier, I lay on my bed, drowning myself in tears, snot, and fears. I feared the looming prospect of an unknown future. I feared being lonely. I feared because my insecurities preyed upon me. I feared the pressures of success. I feared the disappointment of failure. I feared expectations. It was a melting pot of fears really. And the more I feared, the faster I drowned. I spilled the beans to my mother and she whispered something about being grateful. And suddenly, the dots connected. I understood now what it meant to be victimized by your own surroundings. I had succumbed and it was ugly. My life had simply become about me, me, and me. Being wrapped up in my own affairs had pushed everything out of perspective and into a gigantic mess.
I think whether people like to admit or not, there comes a time where everyone goes through a phase of loneliness. Some may last longer than others. It depends on how you deal with it. Often times, we believe that a new place or new faces will fill that hole, but it's not a matter of the physical. It's a matter of the heart. Doesn't matter if you have three friends or thirty friends, if you don't fill that hole with the right thing, you'll fall into a cycle.
In the book "Passion and Purity" by Elizabeth Elliot, she talks about dealing with loneliness. I jot bits of it down in my journal awhile back, but, unfortunately, wasn't able to finish it all. Words in italics are taken from the book.
Be still and know that He is God. When you are lonely, too much stillness is exactly the thing that seems to be laying waste your soul. Use that stillness to quiet your heart before God. Get to know Him. If He is God, He is still in charge. Amen.
Remember that you are not alone. "The Lord, He it is that doth go with thee. He will not fail thee neither forsake thee. Ben strong and of good courage." (Deut. 31:8) Jesus promised His disciples, "Lo, I am with you always." (Matthew 28:20). Nevermind if you cannot feel His presence. He is there, never for one moment forgetting you.
Give thanks. In times of my great loneliness I have been lifted up by the promise of 2 Corinthians 4:17-18, "For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, because we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen." This is something to thank God for. This loneliness itself, which seem a weight, will be far outweighed by glory.
Refuse self-pity. Refuse it absolutely. It is a deadly thing with power to destroy you. Turn your thoughts to Christ who has already carried your griefs and sorrows. If only I had listened.
Accept your loneliness. Remember that "this too shall pass". Loneliness is only a phase. Like I said earlier, almost everyone goes through this phase. It will not last forever. Just hang in there.
Offer your loneliness up to God. Just like the boy who offered his five loaves and two fishes and had his little gift turned into a multitude of blessings. God can take something as pathetic as loneliness and turn it into something amazing.
Do something for somebody else. Don't wallow in your self-pity. Go do something good for another person. Who knows? You may bring about blessing in this person's life. The bottom line is don't waste your opportunity. God may be trying to teach you something out of this experience.
My laptop battery is about to die and my eyes will be red and puffy tomorrow if I don't go to bed. I have so much to chew on. It's time for me to count my blessings and stash the pity-parties away for good. It's time to bask in His grace and drown. Willingly. Obediently.
It's 3:00 AM. Good night.
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