July 28

I loved last night. Windows open, ceiling fan spinning, dusk just ending and the sky falling dark from a sapphire blue. I, sitting cross-legged on the floor, laptop in front of me, pecking away while watching a movie on TV, took delight in Linsay, my friend and future sister, who was sitting beside me, squealing in laughter at the movie. A Pizza Hut pepperoni and mushroom pizza was for supper. We had ice cream for dessert, and we talked and laughed and squealed and reminisced all night long. I loved last night.

I remember three years ago from last night I was bawling my eyes out. I was crying two years ago from last night too. I guess I don't remember what I was doing a year ago, but I know it wasn't as good as this year.

July 28, 2003, I moved to the community that would become my home for what is now two years and going. I didn't know a single person here. I was starting my first year of teaching, terribly lacking confidence and even doubting if I was in God's will in taking this position and making this move. I had a bed, a chest of drawers, a table with two chairs, a computer, and a tv. The mattress had been soaked by rain during the move, so I spent the first night clinging to the dry edge of it. I was so frightened that first night too. I remember locking the door, then locking my bedroom door, and laying awake listening for any sound that could speak danger to my life. I remember sitting on the floor in my near empty living room, just crying and crying and crying. I felt so alone. All day long, the words "You are alone, you are alone, you are alone," cycled through my head. I had not yet learned to say no to those words.

I felt alone, but I was not alone. And I'm not just saying that God was with me, although He was and it is because of His grace and to His glory that I found such joy in last night. But I mean I was not void of human relationships. They weren't right there, but there were people who loved me, were thinking of me, and were praying for me. And, although I did not know them yet, there was a Christian community here, willing and eager to help me as soon as they knew me. Because of pride and fear and timidity I shyed away from such help, choosing to retreat inside of myself instead of risking the rejection coming with relationships. I felt alone, and though that was a legitimate, reasonable emotion rooted in hurts and wounds that were real and needed to be addressed and not ignored or denied, the reality was I was not alone.

Beth Moore once pointed out that David, in his cries of loneliness and hopelessness while running from Saul, was not without ally. Of course, God was with him, and God was his comfort, but, David's father and brothers were still rooting for him. David was not completely abandoned. There were people who cared very much for his well-being. The emotions were real, and David had every reason to feel the way he did, but I'm sure he gave thanks later for those people who loved him.

I am so thankful for the people who have been with me when I felt so alone. I'm so glad for those people who stuck with me, not offended that I was little comforted by their warm words, not giving up when their presence made little difference to me.

And, I am so thankful to God in making this lonely place home. Two years after I sat in an empty apartment crying, Linsay and I laughed in a cozy room, I being so happy I could offer some hospitality to a friend who never left. And, I am so happy I can go up to school and talk and laugh with those who have become my new friends. Loneliness is still a real emotion, but at least it is no longer combined with hopelessness and a perception that I am utterly alone. That is God's grace.