Loneliness is Painful

“I lie awake; I am like a lonely sparrow on the housetop.

Psalm 102:7, ESV 

 “At my first defense no one came to stand by me, but all deserted me. May it not be charged against them!”

   2 Timothy 4:1

The Bible is sensitive and aware of the difficulties of loneliness.

We discover that the sense of being all alone is quite common. We’ll encounter this awful thing before our day is done.  To be alone, isolated, and separated brings us a ‘solitary confinement‘ of our hearts.  That difficult confinement will never be easy.

There’s a place where the Lord orders us to be quarantined.

Sometimes, in order to deal with certain sins, our Father will purposefully isolate us from others. Your sinful attitudes may spread to others. Sin is often compared to spiritual leprosy–it’s contagious.

But loneliness doesn’t have to be a sin issue. Being lonely can be a season in your life; like winter is waiting for spring. This is a hard time to be sure. The field seems dead, fallow, and waits for planting seed. Ministry is not really easy during this season. It seems like a time of preparation.

Both David and Paul were often lonely. 

King David looked around and found nobody that he could be with.  He felt like a solitary bird when all had flown away, and the apostle Paul knew true abandonment.  Everyone had left him by himself in this difficult spot. The reality is, we need others. 

Jesus knew what it was like to be terribly lonely. 

“You will leave me alone, but I am never really alone because the Father is with me”  (read John 16).  I often think He spent all that time in prayer, to somehow connect with His Father was because of loneliness.  It seems Jesus had a deep need to be understood.

Your loneliness can be redeemed and used by God.

Loneliness is one of our Lord’s favorite tools in restoring our hard hearts.  It has a wonderful capacity to do things in us, that none of His other ways would work.  It can be the perfect mechanism for Him to deeply touch us.  And He will not hesitate to use it.

Often there can be a definite loneliness as we move toward Him. 

This is acquired loneliness that comes when we start separating ourselves from the world.  Few or any will understand you, or why you are doing this.  To follow Jesus, is to become like Him.  If He struggled at times with loneliness, so will you.

I can say no ‘magic words’ that will lift you out of this pain. 

Sometimes you just might have to plow it through it on your own.  But I can tell you that He is wildly and passionately in love with you. You are never alone. Never. Don’t lose heart, dear one.

If everyone forsakes you and leaves you standing alone in a tight spot, the Lord will be there. He is your best friend.

Hebrews 13:5

Dancing With Bruises

ballerina stretching
Photo by Beto Franklin on Pexels.com

It seems like bruises are part of our life.

Dancers are some of the most talented people I know. Their gracefulness can be seen both on and off the stage. A dancer’s training is far from easy. But by choosing to become dancers they have made a decision to absorb pain.

Their toes and feet are blistered and bruised; they take constant abuse. Some live with chronic tendonitis. Their feet bleed sometimes, and pain is their constant companion, but they still choose to dance.

Two things to consider.

  • They choose to dance. Dancers must operate with an iron will and an elegant grace. I suppose that is why they can dance the way they do. They have painfully blended the two.
  • The scars and bruises often become “badges of honor.” They would rather dance in pain, than not dance at all.

I once heard someone describe depression as having a mental bruise. I understand this. It makes sense.

As one prone to depression, I know what it is like to bury myself in my bed for weeks at a time. My own mental bruise was simply more than I could take. There was a sensation of sinking into blackness, a sense of total and complete despair. I felt lost and completely alone.

I prayed. I groaned, and I prayed again. Things weren’t going well.

dancer-feet

My sense of being totally lost in sad, dark thoughts was beyond comprehension. Dear reader, this was something quite real, and you must become aware of these things. Some of your friends are suffering, and it is often a hellish and desperate depression.

We would never say that diabetics are that way because of the enemy. The dark one will surely exploit it, but I think you give him far too much credit if you suggest he was able to initiate it. I don’t think Satan has the spiritual “voltage.”

I refuse to hide my mental bruises from those who share my pain. I will make the choice to dance. I’m bruised, but I will try to ignore the pain. I would exult in my God, walk in His love, and “leaping with joy like calves let out to pasture” (Malachi 4:2.)

“A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out, till he has brought justice through to victory.”

Isaiah 42:3

The great pastor/evangelist Charles Spurgeon once spoke about his own personal battle with depression. Read this quote slowly and deeply:

 “I find myself frequently depressed – perhaps more so than any other person here. And I find no better cure for that depression than to trust in the Lord with all my heart, and seek to realize afresh the power of the peace-speaking blood of Jesus, and His infinite love in dying upon the cross to put away all my transgressions.”

Charles Spurgeon

Front and Center

John 8:3-11

Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery, making her stand in the center. “Teacher,” they said to him, “this woman was caught in the act of committing adultery. In the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” They asked this to trap him, in order that they might have evidence to accuse him.

Jesus stooped down and started writing on the ground with his finger. When they persisted in questioning him, he stood up and said to them, “The one without sin among you should be the first to throw a stone at her.” Then he stooped down again and continued writing on the ground. When they heard this, they left one by one, starting with the older men. Only he was left, with the woman in the center. 10 When Jesus stood up, he said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

11 “No one, Lord,” she answered.

John 8:3-11

I remember how Jesus defended me. I had been led through the crowds. The temple was filled with people who were there for the festival. It was a time of joy and feasting, but not for me.

Especially not for me.

The temple police escorted me to Jesus. I was now the focus of everyone’s attention. I felt dirty and ashamed. Standing there I could feel the lustful looks from the Pharisees; but there was something else as well, a look from Jesus that I had never seen before. There was compassion there, something quite extraordinary.

I’m ashamed, I committed adultery, I had slept with another man who wasn’t my husband.

I was to be stoned, to have hard rocks thrown at me by “holy” men. The Law had pronounced my guilt, and I knew how I was to be punished. And I deserved it. Yet the man who I slept with was never charged, he escaped and it was I that would be put to death. I didn’t blame him.

My shame was now public knowledge–everyone knew, the Pharisees made sure of that.

They put me front and center. They were going to test Him. They were going to destroy me.

These men who brought me had ulterior motives, they desperately hoped Jesus would stumble. I think they wanted to prove once and all to the crowds that were watching that Jesus really wasn’t the Messiah. They wanted to trap him.

Jesus seemed to understand the implications of this satanic effort.

Only Rome had the power of execution, and yet the Mosaic Law declared that I was to die. I stood waiting, expecting the worst. What else could I do?

It’s funny, but Jesus understood all of this. He seemed to look right through this theological trick, and He responded in a way that really shocked everyone. He never spoke, but bowed low and began to write in the dirt with his finger. Amidst their vicious accusations, they pressed their case.

Jesus bent down again, and he wrote some more.

I never knew what he wrote–but I had to believe it must have been something that revealed the sin in the hidden hearts of the men who were accusing me. In that moment, they quickly dropped the case against me. They all filed out, one by one, in dramatic fashion. I now stood alone with Jesus.

And it was then that Jesus looked directly at me.

I was still afraid, but it was strange, I felt a wave of peace as well. I quietly waited, not knowing what He was going to say to me. I suppose I half expected the worst.

Yes, he did confront me. But He wanted me to acknowledge that those accusing men had left. I saw it and understood. Jesus was asking me to believe that I was now really free. But then he wanted me to understand something that seemed quite crucial.

“Neither do I condemn you,” said Jesus. “Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”

That dear one was a powerful moment. He set me free with the understanding that He did not condemn me. But my freedom from judgement came with a catch–sort of. I knew then that my sin must be renounced. My freedom came with a price. But knowing I was completely released, meant I was now a free woman.

At that moment I understood completely.

“God pardons like a mother, who kisses the offense into everlasting forgiveness.”

    Henry Ward Beecher

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Trying to Find a Sound Mind

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

2 Timothy 1:7

When you’re profoundly depressed issues like taking a hot shower and eating something seem impossible. I’m embarrassed to say I once went 34 days with a shower. I laid in bed pretty much unable to function. I lost 60 lbs.

I suppose that is the insidious truth about chronic depression, I know it well. God seems far, far away. Life doesn’t matter anymore. I am way beyond ‘salvageable.’ I obviously don’t say it, but I feel deep-down like I’m destined for God’s scrap yard of failed souls.

Just a word here about Satan’s battle for our soul.

He’s a boxer who almost always attacks our vulnerabilities and weaknesses. He finds an open cut, and pounds it over and over.

 

He is evil far beyond human comprehension. His schemes and plots are his attempt to destroy me and to extend his darkness.

Scripture tells us that the devil is conquered. Using God’s weapons (Ephesians 6:10-18) we can protect ourselves from his evil intentions. But that war is still demanding and it’s a real challenge at times. Especially for us.

But yet there is much I can do.

Yes, it’s true–life does seem impossible at times. Depression, if not confronted biblically, will slowly devour us. It deceives and cripples. There is nothing quite like it; some people tell you it will pass, and that you’ll see the sun again, but they don’t get it. Sometimes it seems to be the worst advice ever given.

Please understand that afflicted souls are special to God.

And that alone truly comforts me. It seems like there is an invisible tether that holds from completely dropping off the edge. When I pray–it is often desperate and brief. (More like a quiet scream for help.) There are no frills and no eloquence, but I know I’m being heard by Him who guards my soul.

People, for the most part, don’t always understand and are of little help. I must admit that my own attitude about this can be less than stellar. I want to shout, “unless you have been lost in this particular section of hell yourself, perhaps it’s best if you just shut up.” (I don’t really say this mind you, but I’m terribly tempted to.)

Try to speak honestly to the Lord as often as you can.

Learn to listen to His voice. I read the Psalms–they give me a spiritual ears so that I can hear Him. I find a voice that can speak to God. Reading the Psalms imparts things that I desperately need.

That “sound mind” promised in 2 Timothy 1:7 needs to be believed. You must activate it by faith. Even a faith that falters and is weak. But like a shield, you need to lift it up to defend yourself.

  John Henry Newman