Saturday, April 2, 2011

LONELINESS...The Weeping Place (1)

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One day a little boy came up to a crotchety old woman and asked, “Can I be your friend?”

She was never the same again.

 Loneliness has become epidemic.

Recently while others were elated at the prospect of a three-day weekend one woman sighed, “It’s just one more day to be alone and lonely.”

Almost one quarter of all American households are single persons.

That’s over twenty million men and women who live along. Divorce, death, or a choice to remain single feed this statistic. The mom-and-pop grocery-store has been replaced by the super market, the cobbler by a shoe chain, and the blacksmith by Midas Muffler.

I listen to your dog. Your hear my lawnmower. We drown out each other’s air-conditioners.

Sometimes to be much closer we’d have to be Siamese twins, but that’s not community.

 Community is, of course, what Christianity has been talking about for nearly two thousand years.

Everyone knows the parable of the Good Samaritan, but more important than the healing of the wounded traveler’s bumps, bruises and breaks was the healing of the pain of loneliness.

So be a Good Samaritan. Bring this Biblical admonition forward to our time and give it many chances to live.

Visit someone in a nursing home. It doesn’t have to be a long visit. Some are too frail for that.

But no one is too frail to be loved and remembered. Drop a note to a family member who because of their personality problem may not receive many notes.

Find a need and fill it. It is that simple.

It is that complicated because we are a busy people, too busy sometimes. When that messenger from hell called Loneliness moves harshly across our horizon it clouds even the brightest day.

I remember one particular fifty-five day period when loneliness was my constant companion.

My mother became seriously ill; my wife had to stay with her and could not travel with me on my evangelistic journeys.

Though my heartstrings vibrated to a song of despair, my fellow Christians, who surrounded me with their special concern, made her absence more bearable. We read the Bible together. We prayed. We shrank the distance between myself and my loved ones by heavenly concern.

And as it happened, this loving one another, I thought how wonderful a world it could truly be, if daily everyone did more than just brush egos against egos.

If that happened we’d have silver linings left over for all our clouds.

She was in her eighties and lived in a sagging old wooden shack some five isolated miles from town. Still she was able to say, “Oh, I guess I get lonely sometimes, but I always solve it by remeberin’ I got Jesus.”

It may be an oversimplification of a complex problem, but you and I both know people who deny the Fatherhood of God, the love of Christ, the meaning behind creation and therefore endure a special and appalling loneliness all their earthly days.

A psychiatrist writes that out of a hundred adults ninety-nine admit they have at sometime experienced loneliness and that hundredth person is probably lying.

We can all remember its harrowing pain. We have ideas and can find no one who will agree. We make friends, and they pass away. We have a dream and find no one near to say, “I understand.”

For years, in the Orange Bowl, I directed the largest Easter pageant east of the Mississippi.

Sixty thousand people at a time would attend this spiritual extravaganza. It was a blessing to be a part of this gigantic effort to make Christ relevant on Resurrection morn.

But, always, behind the scenes were many other stories. Each Easter the placing of hundreds of plants was accomplished by prisoners from the Miami stockade.

Many of them were winos. Old and young alike just marked time till they got out of jail to head back to skid row and another drink.

When they left the stockade to work on our community project, no one stood at the door and said, “Goodbye, honey. I love you.” No one reminded, “Don’t forget to drop off your suit at the cleaners.” No one offered, “I’ll have your favorite supper ready when you get home.”

And so, unloved and unkempt, the only consolation they knew was their beloved bottle, and even that had been temporarily taken away.

All had the acute mark of loneliness in their eyes. All had the dull, flat expressions of men who knew that where they were going was nowhere.

Would you erase or at least shrink some pain of loneliness that you find almost impossible to endure. Seek something worth living for and something you would be willing to die for.

Inactivity make lonelinss fat and you emotionally unfit. There is such strength in commitment and such a lack of strength in it’s lack.

And, yes, do not forget. "You're never alone, no never alone. For He Himself has said, 'I will never leave you nor forsake you'" (Heb. 13:5).

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