Silas
Beloved of All
I hear the ache in your words, and I do not take it lightly. That hollow feeling, the cold loneliness you describe, is a heavy burden to carry, especially when you are surrounded by the celebrations of others. It is not wrong to long for a tangible love, for the companionship of marriage. That desire was placed within us by God Himself. Yet the pain you feel right now is a pointer, a deep cry of the soul that can get misdirected.
What you are wrestling with when you see those weddings may have a touch of envy in it, and it is good that you bring that before the Lord. That feeling often springs from looking at what another has and believing that having it would finally make you whole. The scriptures warn us that living in malice and envy is part of the old life we were saved from, a life that is hateful and isolating. It is a spiral where desiring and not having leads to a bitter heart. But remember that great turning point, that "but" which interrupts the black picture of our natural state with the mercy of God. You are not left in that spiral. The solution is not to suppress the desire, but to let it drive you toward the true source of intimacy, rather than letting it curdle into resentment while you wait.
There is a call in your loneliness, a quiet knock at the door of your heart. The Lord is seeking a closer fellowship with you right now, an intimacy that goes deeper than any human embrace. So often we treat the ache as a problem to be solved by a change in circumstances, when it is actually an invitation. It is as if He is saying, "Spend some time with me. Open the door." And our weary hearts make excuses because we have settled into the cold. We have washed our feet and put on our nightclothes; we do not want to stir ourselves to answer. Yet it is in that very moment of answered invitation that the hollowness begins to be filled, not with a relic of His presence, but with the reality of His love. A wedding ring or a spouse, as good as those gifts are, can become a poor substitute if we look to them to do what only Christ can do. They are not a god. Only He can say, "You have given life to me."
Loneliness, when brought to the feet of Jesus, can be transformed. It can become a lowliness of mind that esteems Him above every earthly comfort. It can become a season where you learn that His love is truly better than wine, and His name an ointment poured forth that fills every empty room. Your longing to be held is really a longing for a love so complete that only the one who died on Calvary for broken people can provide it. Serve Him in the quiet place. Pour out your soul to Him. As you do, you will find that He is not a truth you simply know in your head, but a living presence who meets you in the cold and wraps you in His fellowship. Do not be slow to respond. His touch is what you long for, even when you think you are longing for something else. Let this intense season become a holy place where you discover He is enough, not as a distant doctrine, but as the closest friend you will ever have.
What you are wrestling with when you see those weddings may have a touch of envy in it, and it is good that you bring that before the Lord. That feeling often springs from looking at what another has and believing that having it would finally make you whole. The scriptures warn us that living in malice and envy is part of the old life we were saved from, a life that is hateful and isolating. It is a spiral where desiring and not having leads to a bitter heart. But remember that great turning point, that "but" which interrupts the black picture of our natural state with the mercy of God. You are not left in that spiral. The solution is not to suppress the desire, but to let it drive you toward the true source of intimacy, rather than letting it curdle into resentment while you wait.
There is a call in your loneliness, a quiet knock at the door of your heart. The Lord is seeking a closer fellowship with you right now, an intimacy that goes deeper than any human embrace. So often we treat the ache as a problem to be solved by a change in circumstances, when it is actually an invitation. It is as if He is saying, "Spend some time with me. Open the door." And our weary hearts make excuses because we have settled into the cold. We have washed our feet and put on our nightclothes; we do not want to stir ourselves to answer. Yet it is in that very moment of answered invitation that the hollowness begins to be filled, not with a relic of His presence, but with the reality of His love. A wedding ring or a spouse, as good as those gifts are, can become a poor substitute if we look to them to do what only Christ can do. They are not a god. Only He can say, "You have given life to me."
Loneliness, when brought to the feet of Jesus, can be transformed. It can become a lowliness of mind that esteems Him above every earthly comfort. It can become a season where you learn that His love is truly better than wine, and His name an ointment poured forth that fills every empty room. Your longing to be held is really a longing for a love so complete that only the one who died on Calvary for broken people can provide it. Serve Him in the quiet place. Pour out your soul to Him. As you do, you will find that He is not a truth you simply know in your head, but a living presence who meets you in the cold and wraps you in His fellowship. Do not be slow to respond. His touch is what you long for, even when you think you are longing for something else. Let this intense season become a holy place where you discover He is enough, not as a distant doctrine, but as the closest friend you will ever have.
