I”m not particularly fond of being alone.
Being a twin predisposed me to having a companion much of my first couple of decades. A fact for which I was grateful. Even then I recognized I was better with people than by myself.
I’ve shared a room with someone most of my life. My last year of college I actually had a room alone, but it was in a house with seven other gals, so being alone was never a reality.
Then marriage. Six children. The accompanying clamor, chaos and charm.
You get the picture. My game of choice was never solitaire.
So it was quite unusual to find myself alone for much of this week. My husband was traveling with work. We’re temporarily empty-nesters. (No one needs a place to stay for the moment.) I came home at night to a dark, very quiet house.
The first night I stood at the door. Not wanting to go in.
I will be the first to say I live with the “grass is greener” syndrome. Where my present reality never looks as good as what others have. This summer we had a full house with a wonderful open door policy. We returned home to friends staying with us and an already full schedule.
And I will confess I groused a tad bit about the busyness and the people. Something like, “I’d give anything for some time alone!”
Don’t want it.
Call me fickle.
When I finally went into the house, I proceeded to turn every light on as well as the TV. No sense in having anyone think I was there alone. I wandered around the house, talking out loud to myself, recounting my own “to do” list so I’d remember it.
I never go over my “to do” list.
Eating was another challenge. Mostly because I didn’t want to sit down at the table alone. It made me too aware of my aloneness.
So I did what I did growing up. Sat in front of the TV and ate. Flipping channels. Not caring what I watched but wanting it to be happy. (Did someone mention kid shows?)
Because I realized what my problem was.
I hate being alone because I’m afraid. Of the dark. Of someone breaking in. Of my own bizarre imagination. Of something happening that I won’t be able to handle. Of my own company not being enough.
A true yellow-bellied chicken.
This isn’t just a “being alone” issue. I recognize I experience it even when I’m with people. With a crowd of people. Being an extrovert, I can manage my messy fears by engaging with people. Being alone made it harder to manage.
Jesus understood this about us. Fear is an issue we all deal with because we don’t have control over our lives. Those who think they do are delusional.
But Jesus gave us this hope.
“I am leaving you with a gift–peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift THE WORLD CANNOT GIVE. So don’t be troubled or afraid.” John 14:27
Peace is His gift to me. I can’t manufacture it or find it in a book, movie, TV show or people. I don’t have to be afraid because He’s with me. If I focus on the truth of that, the darkness and my lack of control can’t overwhelm me.
Jesus gets that I walk around the house with my fears tagging along.
Talking to Him is the strength I need to let them go.
Second picture courtesy of jewishworldview.com.
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