I’m lying in bed, listening to Waymaker, and I’m crying. It’s been a rough couple of days. Out my bedroom window, even with the lights of Main Street, I see a star. A solitary star. When I go to the living room in the dark, and look out that window, I notice other stars as well. They’re not as bright, but they are there.
My sister was listening to a song in the car today. A phrase from the song is: But feelin’ lonely don’t mean you’re alone (“I Choose”-Alessia Cara). I am lonely. To be living through a pandemic is to be lonely. I want to go to church again. The last time I was physically with my church family, we had our communion and foot washing service. And it was five weeks ago. I hunger for a dinner date with two of my dear friends, both Introverted, Intuitive, and Feeling types like myself, where we can discuss deep things- heart and hard things. I need to talk to people who understand me. It’s been way too long since I’ve been at my most favorite coffee shop, and I want to spend a Friday shopping at the local small businesses. I miss people.
I’m lonely, along with probably much of the world right now. We are lonely together. It’s a little bit of a paradox, perhaps, but true nonetheless. In this post, please hear me say, I’m in this with you, and you’re not the only one who is feeling lonely. Sometimes it just helps knowing there are other people out there feeling the same way. It’s like my solitary star. It looks alone, but upon closer observation, other stars are also visible.
The solitary star can also act as a reminder of hope. Hope that life will eventually twinkle again. It’s been several weeks since my Crazy Happy post, and I’ll confess that the past couple of days have been difficult. Anxiety has upset my happy ship. Anxiety. Fear. For some people, these feelings are a little more foreign. For others of us, they’re old, familiar enemies. When Normal is knocked out from under our feet, and we are left grabbing for solid ground, Fear is there waiting to push us down further. These days, Normal is an illusion, a memory, but certainly not reality.
I fall asleep long after I should have been sleeping. Morning comes. It’s a rainy morning, but it’s morning still.
“‘While the earth remains, Seedtime and harvest, Cold and heat, Winter and summer, And day and night Shall not cease.’” -Genesis 8:22 NKJV
I go to find this verse in my Bible. It’s highlighted in green, and next to it, at some point, I wrote the words This is grace beside it. Amen. Maybe this is my solitary star of hope for today. Regardless of what is happening in the world, there is comfort in knowing that the earth is functioning normally. It is continuing to spin in predictable circles on its axis because God is allowing it to do so. And that’s a gift.
So, with His help, I’m going to try to choose hope today. I’m going to wear something pretty, because that is medicine for my soul. A friend gave me sourdough starter yesterday, and I would like to attempt a loaf of bread today. I’ve never used sourdough before, so it could be an experience. I’ll play Waymaker again and know it to be true. Jesus is the way through the anxiety, the fear, and the pandemic. He’s the Star of Hope.