I have a friend. She is the best. Literally. She is my best friend. She rejoiced on the mountain top with me, and walked through the valleys with me and vice versa. She is my life long friend. And I've known her about 8 years. A little bit longer. A while ago, probably at the cusp of our friendship, we made up a place, or really just named it - the island. (At least I think we made this up, I honestly have no clue, but she's the only one I talk to about this because she's the only one who understands it.)
The island is tricky, because you don't know you are on your way there until you've showed up. The island is the place where you feel so alone, isolated, like there is no escape. Often times it comes up in the hardest times of your life. You feel like no one understands what you are going through, you feel so much hurt and pain that you draw into yourself, or push others away (without realizing you are doing it). The island is where the enemy rejoices, but he feeds you the lie that you are alone, unwanted, undeserving of love. A lot of times, when I end up here, I have never lost sight of Jesus. But a lot of times, when I end up here, I don't stay for as long as I have this time.
I've been on the island for about half a year now, probably. Maybe longer, who knows. And this island is different, I feel like I am in the middle of the desert. I have lost sight of Jesus, I don't know which way is up, I don't know what is around me, and I am utterly alone (it's what it feels like). I feel like I can't even find the shore.
The island is a scary place to be, especially for me, someone who thrives around other people. I get my energy from others, I feel revitalized, and lately it seems like it's just me hanging out on the island. It zaps you of your energy, your emotions are in a turmoil, and more times than not, you cry. It's extremely lonely and extremely heartbreaking.
Life, emotionally, has not been easy for me lately. I feel alone, unwanted, thirsty, tired, helpless, purposelessness, and sad. So very sad. And a myriad of other things as well. But don't get me wrong, I do have good days too.
Today was not one of them. A few key things happened to me today that led to me to this post.
It started out in the car on the way home from work. Nothing special happened at all today, but I was sitting in traffic and it just hit me in the heart so hard. It's like Satan took a baseball swing at my heart, made contact, and hit a home run. It happened so fast too. I'm sitting on my exit (so like 5-10 min from my apartment) and I just got overwhelmed with sadness. I called it a "sad attack" and I think that name is going to stay. I started crying, looking like a blubbering fool to whoever was stopped next to me. And I realized something, the island, it's got me, it's got me good, and it's got me deep. Still sitting (thank you, Atlanta traffic), I decided to text my friend I told you about earlier. She could be in the middle of finals, not slept a wink, exhausted from the world pulling her 1000 ways, and if I text her about the island, I know I'll get a text back, a call back, or a prayer. Sometimes all three. So I just texted her, "I need prayer. The desert island is so lonely. I'm so expletive lonely. I miss Jesus. I don't want to talk to anyone. I feel purposelessness and sad and like I'm all alone. I'm just struggling. And I know you would understand." (I put the phone down) and drove home. Once at home, the sad attack was so bad, I just crawled into bed for a bit. Zane then texted me he was coming home, and I started to cry again. Now I felt like a failure. He was coming home, the house was a wreck (still is a bit), and dinner wasn't ready. To be honest, I hadn't even started it yet. So I told him that. I said, "I had a sad attack so I came home and got in the bed, dinner hasn't been started yet, I'm sorry."
It takes Zane 10-20 minutes to get home. Today it felt like 5. As soon as he got home, he took his shoes off and climbed in the bed with me. He asked me what was wrong and held onto me while I cried. He is a good man. A great man. He then pulled over the tablet and asked me to pull up the recipe I was planning for dinner, and then he got up and went to make it. (Seriously, he's the best). I started crying again, tears of gratefulness. I got out of the bed to help him, and before I knew it we were sitting down to dinner and he just pulls me against him and prays for me, and against everything that is trying to harm me. Fresh tears (if you don't already know, crying is my expression for everything).
The night goes on, and we play a game and we relax and we laugh, and then I get a text. (I was trying not to dwell on the fact that I didn't get a response from my friend from earlier), but what I got was even better.
She sent me a picture, one that I love and said to me "I was in the middle of making this for you actually, and wanted to wait to respond for a sec." And oh goodness, if I wasn't crying before, I sure was now. In this instant, I felt so loved, and cherished, and like someone cared about me. I felt the Father's arms wrap around me for a split second and it was almost like it was HIS whisper telling me, "You are not alone." I felt like I could see the shore again. That I saw someone who was there, building a raft, someone who sent a search party, someone who missed me while I was gone. In that moment, it was like I realized I had a compass and it was pointing me north, and I just had to take the next step. It was a healing balm to my very tender and aching heart. Not completely healed, but not as hurt.
I tell you all this to show you a) what I've been going through b) to encourage you that you are not alone (if you are like me and find yourself on the island) and c) to help point out some things and some possible next steps.
I needed someone, anyone, to show me this, that I am worth it, especially when I don't feel like it. But the first thing I realized I needed to do what recognize where I was - the island. The second thing I needed to do was reach out, in bravery, in courage, and TELL SOMEONE. I told the two people I trust most in the world with this situation. Two people who have stood the test of time with me, two people who would walk through fire with me, the two people who've seen me at my worst, nursed me back from (all kinds) of health, and who fight for me even if I am acting terrible. It feels like, in the worst of it, that these people don't exist, but they do, I swear they do. And thirdly, I waited. I waited for the Lord, because reaching out to someone like that is a plea to the Lord. I know he heard my desperation, my tears have been collected today, and I know he saw my pain. I waited to see what would happen, and my two people came through. Hugs and service, and words (and a beautiful picture).
One thing I know about the island, but I get tunnel vision when I am here, is that there are always people on the island, there are always people on the boat, throwing life rafts to you, you are one step away from the closeness you so desire. When you take the blinders off, you see the beauty of community, even if for the moment it's two people, two solid people. But in those moments of clarity, in those moments of hugs and service and words (or whatever you are experiencing) you realize, YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Trust me when I say it, you are not alone.
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