alone

“I must be Dorothy.”

I’ll admit it. We had been ignoring the beautiful little girl. In the room full of people, every one of us was looking at the window and offering an opinion about the shades being installed. No one was focused on her in any way.

The sweet little girl sat on the cedar chest and swung her feet—thunk, thunk, thunk—against the sides, waiting for at least one of us to tear our eyes away from the window and speak to her.

It must have been a sore trial for the little tyke. When one is used to being the center of attention, to be among a crowd of folks and not even be a part of the conversation would be most difficult. Especially if you’re an almost four-year-old kid.

Then again, I don’t know.

This sixty-year-old man understands how she feels. Anyone who’s spent time waiting while life goes on apace for others all around knows how the little girl feels.

Lonely isn’t only being by one’s self. It’s not.

Lonely isn't only being by one's self. It's not. Share on X

Isolation isn’t primarily about walls and distance.

We might even need to remind ourselves once in a while of who we are. And, who we were.

I must be Dorothy.

Into the dark room of loneliness, sometimes a shaft of light—a blazing ray of sunshine— sneaks its way through the blinds we have lowered ourselves and illuminates the entire room.

How’s this for light?

He already knows my name! (Isaiah 43:1)

I’ll never have to stand and remind Him, I must be Paul. He knows.

He knows.

We don’t need to jump up and down, waving to make sure He is aware of our presence. We have His undivided attention.

But, perhaps it’s time I—we— who have been shown such love and lavish attention should begin to show love and lavish attention to those around us.

Many are lonely in the crowd. Many sit, kicking their feet, waiting for someone—anyone—to notice them sitting there.

I’ve been in that crowd. Alone. Lost. I will attest to the loneliness and pain. But, I also remember the approach of a member of the crowd who says, You must be Paul, and then that feeling of relief and belonging spreading to every part of my being.

It is a wondrous gift to be recognized.

It is a wondrous gift to be recognized. Share on X

Who better to notice those who are alone than we who have been noticed when we were alone? We have been recognized in a crowd. Why would we not offer that same gift to others who desperately need it?

We are blessed so that we will bless. It is a reasonable expectation.

I won’t deny it. We laughed as we heard the words from the little girl’s mouth today. And then, we paid attention to her.

But the truth is, most folks won’t ever say a word. They’ll come into our lives and they’ll disappear just as quickly. And, quietly. If we let them.

Let’s not let them.

You must be . I was hoping you’d be here.

Only the lonely know the way I feel tonight.
(Roy Orbison ~ American singer/songwriter ~ 1936-1988)

All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.
(2 Corinthians 1:3-4 ~ NLT ~ Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2007, 2013, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.)

Alone again. Naturally.

I sit here in the wee hours and, as I often do, contemplate the big questions. Oh, sometimes the little questions pop up too–such as: I wonder if I burned enough calories on my bike ride earlier that I could eat some chips. (The answer is always yes, no matter how far I rode.)

But more often than not, I think about life and death, or turmoil in the world, perhaps even about social change and justice. I argue with myself about my faith, questioning those things I am dogmatic about in public. I reflect on the path my life has taken.

Funny. I love being with people. I really do. But, I don’t do much contemplating while I’m with people. Surrounded by others who think much the same as I, I agree with them and commiserate about folks who disagree with the truth we know.

We know.

By myself, I wonder. I pray. I consider.

In the dark and alone, I find the courage to take my faith out and examine it. It’s not always a pretty picture.
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“This roast beef is amazing, Mom!”

The young man was talking with his mouth full, but the Lovely Lady didn’t mind. She smiled and thanked him, as she passed the platter on around the table.

Hmmm. I guess what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I have heard that ignorance is bliss. I’m referring to what happened earlier that day, when no one else was around but the Lovely Lady and me.

The day before, while we were wandering the aisles of the local supermarket together, she handed the package to me. It was huge.

Huge. Enough to feed twenty people.

But earlier on the day of the dinner, she stood in her robe at the kitchen counter, butcher knife in hand. She wasn’t gentle. Slicing here, cutting there, she removed the chunks of fat and inedible gristle from the beautiful, huge roast.

It was not a pretty picture. But, the result? Perfection.

Absolute perfection. Ask the young man. Just don’t tell him about the lady in her robe.
____________________

Alone. I examine what I believe and who I am becoming. With friends earlier, I was almost proud of my accomplishments and how my faith in God has lead my steps to this point.

Perhaps proud is not the right word. Maybe, I should say satisfied, or even content.

It is a pretty package. I’ve wrapped it rather neatly, I must say. And yet, I get the sense that what’s inside isn’t quite ready for consumption.

Not quite…

He would never do it unless I invited Him.

I can’t be trusted with the knife myself, you know. It is an attribute I share with King David of old. He recognized it, too. That’s why he invited the inspection and the cutting.

Search me, O God. See if there be any sinful way in me.

It is a process that must be repeated. Over. And over.

I think it seldom takes place in the company of others. At least, that is true for me.

So, I sit alone and contemplate. Well, not completely alone.

He’s here too, you know.

Somebody will have to use the knife.

“They only babble, who practise not reflection.”
(Edward Young ~ English poet ~ 1683-1765)

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”
(Psalm 139: 23, 24 ~ NIV)

He's Taken Leave

Random wanderings with Paul Phillips

I Recognize You

Alone