The Gift of Loneliness
I'm tired of all this – so tired. My bed has been floating forty days and nights on the flood of my tears. My mattress is soaked, soggy with tears. The sockets of my eyes are black holes; nearly blind, I squint and grope. (Ps. 6:6-7)
Steve worked at a pharmacy, and his primary job was to deliver supplies to nursing homes in the area. An additional task, however, involved a short trip next door. Every four days he shouldered a large jug of water and carried it fifty or so feet to a building behind the pharmacy. The customer was an older woman, perhaps in her seventies, who lived alone in a dark, sparse and tarnished apartment. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling. The wallpaper was stained and peeling; the shades were drawn, and the room was shadowy. Steve would deliver the jug, receive the payment, thank the woman and leave.
Over the weeks he became more puzzled by her purchases. He learned that the woman had no other source of water. She relied on his delivery for four days’ worth of washing, bathing and drinking. Municipal water was cheaper; the city would have charged her $12.00 to $15.00 a month; her expense at the pharmacy added up to $50.00 a month. Why didn't she choose the less expensive source? The answer was in the delivery system. Sure, the city water cost less, but the city sent only water; they didn't send a person. She preferred to pay more and see a human being rather than pay less and see no one.
Could anyone be that lonely? It appears that David was. “Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted.” (Ps. 25:16) “I'm tired of all this – so tired. My bed has been floating forty days and nights on the flood of my tears. My mattress is soaked, soggy with tears. The sockets of my eyes are black holes; nearly blind, I squint and grope.” (Ps. 6:6-7) “When they were sick, I dressed in black; instead of eating, I prayed. My prayers were like lead in my gut, like I'd lost my best friend, my brother. I paced, distraught as a motherless child, hunched and heavyhearted. But when I was down they threw a party! All the nameless riffraff of the town came chanting insults about me. Like barbarians desecrating a shrine, they destroyed my reputation. YAHWEH, how long are you going to stand there doing nothing?” (Ps. 35:13-17) David knew the feeling of loneliness. And he knew it in his family, too.
He was one of Jesse’s eight sons. But when Samuel the prophet asked to see Jesse's boys, David was overlooked. The prophet counted and asked if there wasn't another child somewhere. Jesse snapped his fingers like he'd forgotten his keys. "I still have the youngest son. He’s out taking care of the sheep." (1 Sam. 16:11) Jesse's term for "youngest son" was not complimentary. He literally said, "I still have the runt." Some of you may have been the runt in your family. The runt is the one the others have to put up with and keep an eye on. And on this day the runt was left out. How would you feel if a family meeting were called and your name wasn't? Things didn't improve, even when he changed households.
His inclusion in the royal family was King Saul's idea. His exclusion from the royal family was Saul's idea, too. Had David not ducked, he would have been pinned to the wall by the spear of the jealous king. But David ducked. And David ran. For ten years. Into the wilderness he ran. Sleeping in caves and surviving on wild animals. He was hated and hunted like a jackal. David was no stranger to loneliness. And maybe you aren't either.
You've probably figured out that you don't have to be alone to feel lonely. Two thousand years ago, 250 million people populated the earth. Now, there are more than 8 billion. If loneliness could be cured by the presence of people then surely there should be less loneliness today. But loneliness lingers. In fact, a person can be surrounded by a church and still be lonely. Loneliness is not the absence of faces; it’s the absence of intimacy. Loneliness doesn't come from being alone; it comes from feeling alone. Feeling as if you’re facing death alone, facing disease alone or facing the future alone. Whether it strikes you in your bed at night or on your drive to the hospital, in the silence of an empty house or the noise of a crowded bar, loneliness is when you think, I feel so alone. Does anyone really care?
Loneliness shows up everywhere. It litters the floors of boardrooms and clubs. We drag it into parties and usually drag it back out. You'll spot loneliness near the desk of the over-worker, beside the table of the over-eater, and on the nightstand of the one-night stander. We'll try anything to unload our loneliness; it’s one bag we want to drop quickly. But should we? Should we be so quick to drop it? Rather than turning from our loneliness, what if we turned toward it? Could it be that loneliness is not a curse but a gift? Maybe even a gift from God?
It’s occurred to me that, maybe, loneliness is God's way of getting our attention. Here's what I mean. Suppose you borrow a friend's car. His radio doesn't work, but his MP3 with Bluetooth and WiFi does. So, you scroll through his collection, looking for your style of music – let’s say country-western. Nothing. Nothing but his style of music – let’s say 80’s pop. It's a long trip, and you can only talk to yourself for so long. So, eventually, you go to his playlist. You'd prefer some steel guitar, but you're stuck with Abba. Initially it's barely tolerable, but at least it fills the air. At first, you think it’s going to be your Waterloo and you’re getting ready to send out an S.O.S. But then Abba asks you to Take a Chance on Me, and the next thing you know you’re singing Mama Mia, and trying to find Fernando. "Hey, this isn't so bad," you think. Now, would you have made this discovery on your own? No. Abba? Not a chance.
So, what led to your discovery? What caused you to hear music you'd never heard before? Simple. You had no other choice; no other option. You had nowhere else to go. Finally, when the silence was too loud, you took a chance on some songs you'd never heard before. And that’s how God wants you to hear his music. He has a rhythm that will race your heart, and lyrics that will stir your tears. Do you want to journey to the stars? He can take you there. Do you want to lie down in peace? His music can soothe your soul. But first he's got to get rid of that country-western stuff. And so, he begins deleting the playlists – a friend turns away; the job goes bad; your spouse doesn't understand; the church is dull. One by one he removes the options until all you have left is … God. Would God do that? Absolutely. "The Lord disciplines those he loves." (Heb. 12:6)
If he must silence every voice, he will. He wants you to hear his music. He wants you to discover what David discovered and be able to say what David said: "You are with me." Yes, you, Lord, are in heaven. Yes, you rule the universe. Yes, you sit upon the stars and make your home in the deep. But yes, yes, yes, you are with me. The Lord is with me. The Creator is with me. Yahweh is with me. Moses proclaimed it: "What great nation has a god as near to them as the LORD our God is near to us." (Deut. 4:7) Paul announced it: "He is not far from each one of us." (Acts 17:27) And David discovered it: "You are with me." (Ps. 23:4)
Somewhere in the pasture, wilderness, or palace, David discovered that God was serious when he said: "I will not leave you." (Gen. 28:15) "I will . . . not forsake My people." (1 Kings 6:13) "The LORD will not abandon His people." (Ps. 94:14) "God . . . will never leave you nor forsake you." (Deut. 31:6) The discovery of David is the message of Scripture – the Lord is with us. And, since the Lord is near, everything is different. Everything. You may be facing death, but you aren't facing death alone; the Lord is with you. You may be facing unemployment, but you aren't facing unemployment alone; the Lord is with you. You may be facing marital struggles, but you aren't facing them alone; the Lord is with you. You may be facing debt, but you aren't facing debt alone; the Lord is with you. You are not alone.
Your family may turn against you, but God won't. Your friends may betray you, but God won't. You may feel alone in the wilderness, but you aren’t. He’s with you. And because he is, everything is different. You are different. You go from lonely to lovely. When you know God loves you, you won't be desperate for the love of others. You'll no longer be a hungry shopper at the market.
Have you ever gone to the grocery store on an empty stomach? You're a sitting duck. You buy everything you don't need. Doesn't matter if it’s good for you – you just want to fill your stomach. And when you're lonely, you do the same thing – pulling stuff off the shelf, not because you need it but because you’re hungry for love. Why do we do it? Because we fear facing life alone. For fear of not fitting in, we take the drugs. For fear of standing out, we wear the clothes. For fear of appearing small, we go into debt and buy the too-big-house. For fear of going unnoticed, we dress to seduce or impress. For fear of sleeping alone, we sleep with anyone. For fear of not being loved, we search for love in all the wrong places. According to a study conducted by Cigna, 46% of Americans report feeling sometimes or always alone, while only 53% say they have meaningful in-person social interactions on a daily basis. Researchers from BYU determined that the feeling of loneliness is as bad as smoking 15 cigarettes a day.
Contrary to how it may feel, however, loneliness is not a punishment from God or due to some personal fault. Consider the fact that after creating man God said, “It is not good that man should be alone.” And God said that even before the fall, meaning he created us with the capacity to feel lonely even at a time when the world was perfect in every way. The fact that loneliness existed before sin came into the world must mean that it’s okay if we experience it, and that it’s not necessarily the result of something bad. In other words, since the beginning, God created us with a void that only he can fill. And for good reason because if we weren’t created with that void, we wouldn’t sense anything was missing. Loneliness is a gift because it makes us recognize that we need God.
But all that changes when we discover God's perfect love since "perfect love casts out fear." (1 John 4:18) Loneliness. Could it be one of God's finest gifts? Maybe. If a season of solitude is his way of teaching you to hear his song, maybe it’s worth listening to His playlist.
Grace,
Randy
