loneliness

“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.)

Today, he seemed smaller somehow.

He was never a big man. Still, the wizened little fellow who had wandered inside from the gray day wasn’t the man I remembered. Something was missing.

As we talked, I remembered what it was that had made him bigger.

She was always with him. Always.

I asked him how he was doing, really wanting to know. It seemed he could tell that, so he answered as honestly as he knew how.

I’m lonely. Just—lonely.

Fifty-seven years, she had been at his side. The farmer’s wife works harder than the farmer, and is concerned over twice as much. Still, they raised a family, side by side. They went to church, side by side. They slept in the same bed, side by side.

He took her hand as they sat, side by side, one day a couple of months ago and told her he loved her, and she just went to sleep.

Just like that—gone.

His days are still full of people and activity, but as the daylight ebbs and evening approaches, the sense of coming night takes hold in his spirit. He returns to his empty house—alone—and prepares to lie down in an empty bed and it envelops him, leaving him again in black darkness.

He is alone for the first time in nearly sixty years.

Alone and small.

And God said, It is not good for man to be alone. (Genesis 2:18)

I will make a companion who complements him.

He was bigger when she was with him. I’m sure of it.

He knows where she is. The hope is in his eyes when he speaks of her being well and whole now. Still, as he starts for the front door, I see the wistfulness that lingers. He had plans for more time with her—side by side.

He knows she is side by side with another whom she loves now. He wouldn’t take that from her for the world. And, tonight when the loneliness begins to settle into his spirit once more, he will remember it.

Side by side, we labor through the brightest days of our lives. Still side by side, we lean on each other through the darkest times, as well.

And, for a time—in the grand scheme, merely a moment—we may walk alone again to complete our task here in what some call a vale of sorrows.

But, know this: The day will come.

The day will come when we stand side by side once more and rejoice. There will be music, and shouting, and worship.

Side by side, we’ll see Him face to face.

Ah, sweet hope!

Somehow, I don’t expect my friend will be small in that place. Every person there will stand tall.

Side by side.

The days of our lives add up to seventy years,
or eighty, if one is especially strong.
But even one’s best years are marred by trouble and oppression.
Yes, they pass quickly and we fly away.
(Psalm 90:10 ~ NET)

But life will call with daffodils and morning glorious blue skies.
You’ll think of me—some memory, and softly smile to your surprise.
(from When I’m Gone by Joey & Rory ~ Sandy Lawrence songwriter)

He's Taken Leave

Random wanderings with Paul Phillips

I Recognize You

Side By Side