Recently, someone shared the thought that "we find it easier to talk about lust than we do loneliness."
First, I agreed--because I rarely hear anyone admit to being lonely. Then, I disagreed, because I thought of many times I have discussed my own loneliness--in person and on this blog. Then I agreed again, after remembering the uncomfortable looks on people's faces when I have mentioned my loneliness.
I'm grappling in the dark here, but, I think people assume fault when considering loneliness. The assumption is either that the lonely person is needy, or overly shy, or otherwise socially incompetent; OR, the assumption is that the person admitting loneliness is passive-aggressively accusing the listeners of not being good enough friends.
When I feel lonely, I berate myself for not being content with God alone. I feel ashamed for not allowing God to be my all in all.
Adam lived in Eden. He had every good fruit to eat, every beauty of nature, ultimate individual attention from God. He had animals for companions and a job tending the most beautiful garden that ever has been. And, in the midst of all this--all this that God had pronounced good--God found Adam's experience lacking. He said "It is not good that the man should be alone" (Gn 2:18). Note that Scripture records God's recognition of Adam's alone-ness as a bad thing. We have no record of Adam complaining.
Before the fall, when Adam was sinless and in perfect harmony with God, it was not good for Adam to be alone. Adam needed Eve before the arrival of sin. In my understanding, the first "not good" that God identified was loneliness. And, this story is a lesson to me that my loneliness is not a sign of lacking faith.
I wonder if part of what Jesus felt in Gethsemane was loneliness. Praying alone, with sleeping disciples down the hill, heart ravaged by the work set before him...was not loneliness part of his grief? Jesus knew he would have to suffer alone, and I wonder if the lonely weight contributed to his sweat-like-blood.
I'm still considering loneliness: if we are afraid to talk of it; if our culture is more prone to it; how to deal with it; if it is natural; if it is unavoidable; if I should do anything to "fix" it. I don't know the answer to any of these questions, but I do realize that I need stop looking at loneliness--my own or others--as weakness or sin. It is neither.
9 years ago
4 comments:
I really like this train of thought and I completely agree with your last statement.
Annie loneliness is real. I've felt more alone in recent months than I can remember feeling in years. I think it goes along with choosing the "road less travelled by." Most hide their loneliness in busyness called "Christian service," squeezing out all time for introspection or consideration of the fact that loneliness could exist. Perhaps if we strive for significance through accomplishments or activity we can ignore that gnawing feeling of being alone. Thank you once again for putting the raw truth of our inner journeys into tanglible words and thoughts. And by the way, I'd like to walk with you in the rain. Carrying Kirkegaard.
It is our natural state not to allow God to be our all in all. That is why he gives us loneliness. Curiously, that is also why he gives us togetherness. Loneliness smothered, we savor the fruit of togetherness but for a time and a season. Then, unexpectedly, we uncover a loneliness of a deeper and determined sort. What are we left with? The fig does not blossom and the vine bears no fruit. Yet one thing remains in that garden void: God, our all in all. To truly know God, to truly understand our need, we must embrace our loneliness, our abandonment and our delicious temporal relief from it, until, casting all aside, we return again burnt, broken, thorn-bitten and alone to Him who breathed us out of the dust. Because we are alone, we are no longer alone. We have found God necessary by having found Him insufficient.
Post a Comment