"You are not alone in this" is a lie.

“You are not alone in this” is a lie. Or at least it is for some of us. 

 Good old Merriam-Webster decided that when it published this definition:

Definition of alone - Separated from others: ISOLATED 

 As I sit in my living room looking around, there is no one else here. I am separated from others; I AM alone. All of the cheery and creative ideas about what I can do with my “family” aren’t helping. They only serve to painfully remind me my husband died almost two years ago, and my family is on the other side of town shut up in their house. And my family in another state is doing the same. 

 Very few people address us; people who really are alone in this. 

 So, here’s the question, do “they” even know we’re out here? I mean surely, they do. So, what are the other options: they don’t care, we’re not the majority (maybe) so no need to speak to us, or maybe we scare them just a little bit. People don’t know what to say. It’s a little bit of a flashback to after Michael died. Sometimes there just aren’t any words. So, people will just avoid you and the topic altogether. 

Unfortunately, we can’t avoid the questions and conversations in our heads, which come with being alone during a major pandemic. 

·      Who will take care of me if I get sick?

·      What if I don’t have another paycheck to balance a loss of income?

·      I would love to get some things done around the house but it’s hard doing it alone.

·      Who am I supposed to be processing all of this with?

In addition to those of us who are physically alone, there are some who are mentally/emotionally alone. I think about single parents. In your home, which has now become a life-lab on human behavior in crisis, experiments on survival are playing out in real-time. You have your precious kids with you, but no partner to share the burden, no one to watch the kids while you go grab your sanity along with a few groceries. The only good news is parent-teacher conferences are really short these days and you don’t have a spouse getting on your nerves. But you still don’t have a spouse loving you and helping you through all this. 

 If you are physically or emotionally alone, I want to say to you:

You are seen.

Your struggles are known.

You don’t have to be lonely.

  “You don’t have to be lonely in this” is the truth.

Definition of lonely - Producing a feeling of bleakness or DESOLATION

 I remember after Michael died, someone told me I should do a study of widows in the Bible.

Being a word person, I looked up the meaning of the word “widow” and was incensed to find the meaning in the Bible: desolate. I remember getting angry… very angry. “I will not be desolate!” I raged. I even thought about writing a book about being a widow and calling it “Widow: Desolate my A$%!” I’m sorry if I crossed a line there, but it’s true. (Did I mention how raw feelings are when you’re grieving? Now don’t steal the name, I may still write it!) Just because I was physically a widow didn’t mean I had to emotionally accept a desolate mindset. And neither do you. Isolation does not mean desolation!

·      Accept you are alone. That is just a physical fact. Stop swirling in it. 

·      Battle lonely moments, days (even weeks) by reaching out. When we feel lonely, we cross our fingers and hope someone reaches out to us. Fight that with everything inside you. There is someone in a worse situation than yours. Offer them help. 

·      Find opportunities for human interaction. Yes, we’re “sheltering-in-place” but taking a walk in a park or sitting six feet away from a friend for an hour does a world of good.

·      Last but not least, invite God into your loneliness. His presence is already with you whether you acknowledge it or not. So why not give Him the opportunity to do the work in you, for you, and through you during this time? God wastes nothing! Not a moment in eternity and certainly not a virus meant to destroy. Perhaps in the stillness and quiet of “alone” you will hear His voice more deeply than ever before, saying, “I see you. I know your struggles. And although I can’t hold you, I AM here.”

Photo by Mario Azzi on Unsplash