I read a post by my friend Ken Davis this morning. Made me think of those headlines about some cat lady whose death went unnoticed by neighbors for days before the constant mewing alerted them something was amiss. Another friend, Spence Smith, added his commentary to Ken’s post. Check ’em both out, then I’ll make it a third.
Every time I read about a flesh-and-blood someone who’s death (or life) went completely unnoticed, I get that sick feeling in my stomach. First sadness for the unknown life, quickly followed by this thought: Surely someone would notice if I expired, right? God help me if I end up like old sour cream two weeks past due …
For reasons I won’t go into, a wall of challenges has taken shape around me over the past year+ which seems to have grown steep and completely unmanageable. And, like so many of you, when I face the insurmountable, I end up feeling isolated.
Ick.
Though I felt entirely pathetic doing so, I mentioned this cloud of “aloneness” to a friend last week. Such comments aren’t great conversation boosters, so I dropped the glum-bomb briefly before moving the conversation along.
Then she called today, remembering my fleeting moment of transparency. Wanted me to know she’s in my corner. A little nudge to make sure I’m still kicking.
Nice.
So, what’s true? One, aloneness is a feeling, not a reality. A pretty convincing mirage sometimes, but not truth. Even if you truly have no one else, I’m cheering for you. Even more so, the One who made you.
Two, aloneness is no respecter of persons. Or schedules. It hits the heart of the known and unknown, the married and unmarried, the employed and unemployed alike. And usually at the most inconvenient times. Count on it.
And three, it’s not always about you (ouch!). There is always someone else shrouded in their own aloneness. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my own I don’t have a clue. And miss a chance to have a little company in my cloud. Or maybe even leave the aloneness behind. Bonus.
You have a way with words girl. I have a feeling we will be reading more that your blog in the future. Your words stir hearts.
When I think of alone – I think of Psalm 22 – the prophesy of Christ’s thoughts on the cross. He was trully alone to redeem us.
Then, I think of Psalm 23 – Ye though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me.
We are never alone, even though we feel so.
Michele, If you EVER, EVER feel alone again, pick up that phone and dial my number. You are NEVER alone! Love you, my friend, sister-in-our ever present Lord.
I’d love to join you on your cloud for a spot of tea or coffee.
Great post. I recently posted on How You Spend Your Dash.
I’m not going to nudge you, I only do hugs. (((h))))
This really hit me to the core – I’ve felt a lot of aloneness in the past year. More or less a perception than a reality.
So many of my friends from the past have walked away since I started writing. When I turn my head and stare backwards, all I see is the abandonment, rejection and aloneness.
But, when I swivel my head to the front, I see a whole bunch of new writerly friends who get me. Who understand. Who would call my house if I don’t show up to WFTJ and ACFW to see if I’m a corpse getting a whiskery cat scan. 🙂
Thanks for separating fact from fiction. I so appreciate your openess and vulnerability. Aloneness can be so incredible overwhelming. However, I will never cease to be amazed at the lengths Christ goes to in pursuing us.
“aloneness is a feeling, not a reality”
mmm… thanks for that.