Dwelling in Loneliness

Greetings, Loved Ones.

I wanted to lend you all some real insight as to what my life has looked like this past month. This post will cover the topic of loneliness.

While marriage is wonderful and my husband is my very best friend, any married person would probably agree that your spouse cannot (and should not) satiate all your need for human relationship.

This wouldn't be much of an issue except that I am in the unique situation of having physically left all my deep, life-giving relationships on the other side of planet Earth. Due to this, this past month has been exceptionally difficult for my heart and spirit. I am torn between the bountiful excitement of my new marriage and the heart-wrenching sorrows of feeling deeply alone in my new life. I had become acquainted with loneliness over the last two years due to my multiple surgeries and weeks spent alone in hospitals and quarantine rooms; now, I must say: it seems as though I carry loneliness around on my shoulders every day.

The reason I write this is not to throw myself a pity party (though, it has been hard, and I would appreciate prayers!). Rather, I want to share with you something that the Lord has shared with me this last week...

It is of utmost importance to dwell in loneliness at the feet of the Lord.

Loneliness has a unique way of bringing us to the very ends of our little ropes of self-sufficiency. For instance, I like to fancy myself a pretty independent person. Right now, newly married in a new culture, surrounded by brand new people, I feel, for the first time, incapable of adjusting. There is simply too much to adjust to. Suddenly, my self-sufficiency rope comes to an end, I slide off the end of it, and I land hard with my butt on the gravel wondering how I devolved into such a horrid state of friendless-ness and frustration. I know that sounds a bit melodramatic, but bear with me. Suddenly my independence is gone and I am left with my husband and Jesus.

Those last two words are the most important in this post: and Jesus. My current state in life demands that, when despair and longing and bitterness creep into my heart, I say back to them: "You are not welcome here, for I know that my God will never leave me nor forsake me. He is close to the broken-hearted and He saves those who are crushed in spirit." I often find myself singing the comforting song: Almighty, Infinite Father. Faithfully loving Your own. Here in our weakness You find us--falling before your throne." I find it helps me when the endless supply of chocolate bars I've stored up doesn't.

I received a card from my grandmother yesterday that said: "God never wastes a trial." How true those words are! My heart hurts with homesickness and longs for normalcy, but I can feel the Lord refining me. I can feel Him teaching me to let the things of this world--things like popularity and the comfort of familiarity--grow dim. There are some lessons that simply cannot be taught when everything is right in life. The Lord never wastes a trial; He works through them, using them like fire to make us malleable. The fire is painful and uncomfortable--it often seems like I cry more often these days than I ever have before--but we must experience it in order to be molded into vessels of Jesus Christ.

If I can quote my father, officiating at my wedding: "I pray that the Lord would bring trials your way." I want to second that prayer and ask Jesus to please-- bring me hardship. Keep me in this place of alienation and loneliness for as long as it takes to cause me to fully rely upon Your company. Place me over the fire in order to make me malleable. I will consider it pure joy, even through the tears, because I know that it produces perseverance, making me mature and complete, not lacking anything.

That's all for now-- thank you for journeying with me in this time.

Much love,

Anna