Going it Alone with Jesus
There have been times when I've felt lonely in my life. Usually that occurs because I have taken my eyes off of Jesus.
Since I am a student, besides being a mom, I have alot of "alone time" to study, to write, to read. It's a necessity for me to get all that stuff into my head, or out of it onto paper. Any yet, when I am alone at such times, I feel a sense of purpose--that I am fulfilling what God is calling me to in pursuing this Theology degree. Of course, there are all my chores and errands... most of which I do alone as well. But doing them by myself does not necessarily mean I am lonely.
Loneliness only comes when I turn my gaze away from those I love: family, friends, and the Lord. Lately, I've been bumming about my husband's difficult business travel schedule that has taken him away from home for weeks at a time. I've indulged in more than one pity party about this. But I'm moving into something deeper, when I stop the navel-gazing and lift my head to see what's outside of myself.I understand the deep reality that Jesus said he would never leave me or forsake me. When I am self-pitying, feeling "left out" or "forsaken" by others is usually at the root of it. But if I can raise my awareness of Jesus in every breath I breathe, I understand that He is right there beside me AT ALL TIMES. That knowledge helps me to step out and enjoy life when all I want to do is retreat.
A few examples this past week...
On a family ski trip, for reasons that were beyond me, I outlasted my two younger kids on the slopes. They wanted to return to the lodge, but I felt I could still ski a bit more. My older son and hubby were off on some distant slope. So after our lunch break, I went out on my own... something I never do. Now, I'm not an advocate of skiing alone, which in my mind is akin to the warnings of never swimming alone, but it was a crowded day on the mountain, so I theorized there was safety in numbers. Plus I never ski the black diamonds since I'm really a non-risk-taking, downright pokey skier. I told the kids where I would ski, and then we'd "check in." So I skied solo while being very conscious of the presence of Jesus with me. And I had a restorative afternoon--basking in the glory of creation. (Not to mention the fringe benefit of getting on the lift faster by being in the "singles" line.)
Here's one more. This week I went to my mammography and oncology follow-up appointments alone. Being a breast-cancer survivor, I must have semi-annual "check-ups." Taking my husband or a buddy along always has a calming effect for me as I "return to the scene of the crime." (And of course, the payoff is the opportunity to lunch down in Boston with my escort.) This time, I took a good book as a companion. The medical staff was running an hour late, thus increasing the tension. The delay gave me time to quietly observe the other women who were there no doubt for the same thing. I silently prayed for the anxious faces. If I had a friend along, I doubt that I would have been so mindful of the others around me.
Finally my turn came and then I sat in my robe in lovely little parlour area--most likely designed to keep women relaxed in the face of these exams. Sitting in a room with a bunch of other robed women creates a kind of pajama-party effect. (i.e. People you would never talk to on the street are telling you intimate details about their breasts.) Next thing I know a nervous young women in her 30s strikes up a conversation with me. She just found out she has a lump. I closed my book and offered my encouragement. I remember 10 years earlier being in her shoes. Later on, as I waited to be discharged, I met a lovely woman named Grace (!) who was 87 years old but didn't look a day over 65. Had I been on my way to a lunch date, most likely I would not haven taken the time for that conversation, nor received the blessing from it.
It turned out to be a day when I was very mindful of Jesus being "with" me, despite my aloneness. And even though I had intended to be rather anonymous to the people I would encounter, I was surprized by the encounters that Jesus had planned for my day. That night, my hubby apologized that he was away and a girlfriend who is a frequent support buddy said the same thing. I reassured them both that I knew they needed to be where they were instead.
And I was, in turn, blessed by an Unseen Presence.
Copyright 2006 Patricia W. Gohn
Since I am a student, besides being a mom, I have alot of "alone time" to study, to write, to read. It's a necessity for me to get all that stuff into my head, or out of it onto paper. Any yet, when I am alone at such times, I feel a sense of purpose--that I am fulfilling what God is calling me to in pursuing this Theology degree. Of course, there are all my chores and errands... most of which I do alone as well. But doing them by myself does not necessarily mean I am lonely.
Loneliness only comes when I turn my gaze away from those I love: family, friends, and the Lord. Lately, I've been bumming about my husband's difficult business travel schedule that has taken him away from home for weeks at a time. I've indulged in more than one pity party about this. But I'm moving into something deeper, when I stop the navel-gazing and lift my head to see what's outside of myself.I understand the deep reality that Jesus said he would never leave me or forsake me. When I am self-pitying, feeling "left out" or "forsaken" by others is usually at the root of it. But if I can raise my awareness of Jesus in every breath I breathe, I understand that He is right there beside me AT ALL TIMES. That knowledge helps me to step out and enjoy life when all I want to do is retreat.
A few examples this past week...
On a family ski trip, for reasons that were beyond me, I outlasted my two younger kids on the slopes. They wanted to return to the lodge, but I felt I could still ski a bit more. My older son and hubby were off on some distant slope. So after our lunch break, I went out on my own... something I never do. Now, I'm not an advocate of skiing alone, which in my mind is akin to the warnings of never swimming alone, but it was a crowded day on the mountain, so I theorized there was safety in numbers. Plus I never ski the black diamonds since I'm really a non-risk-taking, downright pokey skier. I told the kids where I would ski, and then we'd "check in." So I skied solo while being very conscious of the presence of Jesus with me. And I had a restorative afternoon--basking in the glory of creation. (Not to mention the fringe benefit of getting on the lift faster by being in the "singles" line.)
Here's one more. This week I went to my mammography and oncology follow-up appointments alone. Being a breast-cancer survivor, I must have semi-annual "check-ups." Taking my husband or a buddy along always has a calming effect for me as I "return to the scene of the crime." (And of course, the payoff is the opportunity to lunch down in Boston with my escort.) This time, I took a good book as a companion. The medical staff was running an hour late, thus increasing the tension. The delay gave me time to quietly observe the other women who were there no doubt for the same thing. I silently prayed for the anxious faces. If I had a friend along, I doubt that I would have been so mindful of the others around me.
Finally my turn came and then I sat in my robe in lovely little parlour area--most likely designed to keep women relaxed in the face of these exams. Sitting in a room with a bunch of other robed women creates a kind of pajama-party effect. (i.e. People you would never talk to on the street are telling you intimate details about their breasts.) Next thing I know a nervous young women in her 30s strikes up a conversation with me. She just found out she has a lump. I closed my book and offered my encouragement. I remember 10 years earlier being in her shoes. Later on, as I waited to be discharged, I met a lovely woman named Grace (!) who was 87 years old but didn't look a day over 65. Had I been on my way to a lunch date, most likely I would not haven taken the time for that conversation, nor received the blessing from it.
It turned out to be a day when I was very mindful of Jesus being "with" me, despite my aloneness. And even though I had intended to be rather anonymous to the people I would encounter, I was surprized by the encounters that Jesus had planned for my day. That night, my hubby apologized that he was away and a girlfriend who is a frequent support buddy said the same thing. I reassured them both that I knew they needed to be where they were instead.
And I was, in turn, blessed by an Unseen Presence.
Copyright 2006 Patricia W. Gohn
posted by Pat Gohn at
2/16/2006
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