Lean into loneliness

There is a specific moment this past year that changed me forever.

But first, the backstory.

When loneliness hits, especially as an extrovert, my instinct is to look outward.

To reach for people to fill the empty spaces, to meet me where I ache.

It’s deeply innate, and don't get me wrong, I really love the part of me that finds joy in the people around me. It all makes sense, as I (and you) were created for connection.

But that system has limits.

People cannot always be present, available, or able to meet the depth of what we need in every season.

And that is okay.

But sometimes it didn't feel like it was.

There is only One who knows the desires of your heart at all times, and we are never left alone in them.

That sentence above was learned in this moment, the one this past year that changed me forever:

I was in the ocean, sitting on my surf board, about to switch to the lying position in order to paddle north. As I turned towards the open sea, there was the most beautiful mix of orange and pink reflecting off the water. It struck me differently than the average sunset. Immediately, I yelled to a good friend and they glanced at it for about one second, then quickly went on their way. They were searching for their next wave, totally understandable. That is so much more exciting anyways.

It was all okay... but for some reason it wasn't all okay.

I wanted to so badly for someone to sit and experience it with me in the same way that I did. There were people around me, but my heart longed to have a shared feeling, to be seen and to see back.

The moment itself was nothing extravagant. There is a sunset just about every night, yet I began to fill with a hint of resentment. This was an all too familiar feeling. Why do I care so deeply for someone around me to see a moment as I do? Why do I need to share things at the same level of depth as others? How can someone not admire the beauty in art and creation?

I knew what it was -- a feeling of loneliness.

In the end, this has nothing to do with the people around me, and everything to do with myself.

Right after that moment is when my life changed.

I sat and reflected on what i was feeling and I got a picture of Jesus on a surfboard next to me. He pointed at the sunset and smiled in awe of the beauty.

Sounds silly... Jesus surfing?

Yeah, I know. I felt that way about it too.

Jesus is the Son of God. He is clothed in a white robe and the High Priest who is held with deep reverence and honor. Why would He be here with me on a surfboard?

Yet in that moment, He saw so deeply into the desires of my heart. I felt a freedom from the loneliness that had become an all-too-famliiar feeling. My mind stopped searching and found itself content, sitting there with the softness of the waves... feeling the rest of connection. Something I had never experienced before. The realness of my savior in a place i did not usually search for Him.

I brought that moment with me going forward, and the Lord began to be someone who sat with me in ordinary moments much more often. Not just when I go to the church and kneel before the alter (which is incredible and I believe all should sit in the awe of God's holiness much more often than we do), or in the moments of prayer in my room where I beg to have His guidance, but in the small moments when loneliness creeps in.

In those moments, I am reminded that Jesus fully sees me and fully loves me.