Sometimes You Actually Need a Person

 Can we please stop equating Jesus being with us always as a reason to never feel lonely?

When we do this, we're basically saying that loneliness is a sin.

But, a study of Scripture shows that feeling lonely is not a sin. The things we choose to do as a result of feeling lonely may be sinful, but feeling lonely itself is not.

Yes, it's true that God is always with us wherever we are (Hebrews 13:5; Psalm 139). And that can be a great source of comfort & encouragement.

But, my study of Scripture makes it pretty clear that we are meant to live this life in relationship with other people. We need people around us, journeying with us (Hebrews 10:24-25).

We need to know we're not alone.

Also, often when we're feeling lonely, what we need is to have another in our physical space. That's what changes things.

It's not that we've forgotten God is with us in those moments. It's that we need the presence of a person who cares about us. This isn't wrong. It's how we were created.

We need to become people who respond to the loneliness of others by showing up & being with people. By making space for people, not by shaming them for their feelings with a reminder that God is with them, that doesn't acknowledge what's really going on.

Being "The Single Person" at a Wedding

Thinking about it a little more, a better title for this post may be Being "The Older Single Person" at a wedding. But, that just seems a bit awkward . . .

In the last year, I've been to a handful of weddings again. After many years of not having any, it seems that weddings have been more frequent again. The difference being, I'm not going as part of the group of single friends of the bride and/or groom (with one exception). I'm going, often, as the only single person over the age of 30 at the wedding. And, I'm discovering that makes a difference.

People expect there to be young adults at a wedding that are single. And, some of the things that have traditionally been a part of weddings for those who are single are still fun at that point.

But, as an older single adult, things are different. And, I'm grateful that some of those things haven't been part of recent weddings. Being called out as single at a wedding isn't fun at this point, so seeing those traditions left behind is a relief. 

I'm happy to see no bouquet tosses to the single women in attendance, or garter tosses to the single men. I'm just going to say it: those suck at my age, because it never fails that some well-meaning person at the wedding will make a big deal about the older single adult at the wedding getting up there, whether they want to or not.

Because a wedding is about two people coming together, they are often filled with unspoken and unacknowledged assumptions that make sense for those coming with a partner.

I've written about this before in other settings, but even in how seating is set up in even numbers is a challenge. When things are rigidly set up in even numbers, there isn't a space for the older single adult who comes to the wedding. They are seated with the young adults, or, maybe even worse, they're treated as the strange family member or friend, and left basically alone.

Thankfully in the weddings this last year, I've been seated with other friends in the room - even if it made the tables an odd number of people. It makes it easier to feel like you belong, at least a little bit, in a space focused on couples.

The other thing that I've noticed is challenging to navigate is a dance at a wedding. Depending on how this is done, it can be incredibly isolating for the older single adults in attendance - especially if they like to dance. 

It's one thing to dance with your friends - whether single or married - when you're a young adult. But, something changes when you're older and still single. There's not the same options of those to dance with in the group. Many couples will dance only with each other.

A thing I'm noticing is having some sort of a dance lesson as part of the dance. Can I just be honest and say that, unless this is done very carefully, it's a part of the wedding celebration that calls out those who are single and isolates them completely. If the dance is a partner dance, the older single adult is sitting on the sidelines - almost always by themselves - feeling like they don't actually belong in the space.

At one of these recent weddings, I experienced the dance and dance lesson happening in a very welcoming way for everyone there. It was a wedding for a friend who was single longer and we talked on many occasions on how to navigate life, church, family, and any other aspect of life as a single adult often. Somehow, this friend structured the dance lesson and subsequent dance in such a way that everyone was able to participate and enjoy the dancing. Maybe it helped that there were many more older single adults at this wedding than some others . . .

But, I wonder if being intentional about not inviting people to grab their partner to start the dance lesson can help. Maybe mixing in a large number of line dances, group dance songs . . . places to include everyone, even if they came to the wedding alone, in the dancing.

There are some areas of life that are more challenging to navigate as a single adult. And weddings can definitely be one of them.

I don't have solutions to all the challenges or prescriptions for how things should be done, but maybe we can have a conversation. Maybe as we have the conversation, we can learn and grow together.

The Day I Usually Want to Remove from the Calendar

 Today is day I have often wished to remove from the calendar.

Most days, being single isn't a big deal to me, even if it's not what I had hope for at this point in my life. But, today, it feels like it declares that something is very wrong with me.

February 14.

Valentine's Day.

It's a day when it feels like being single is something you need to hide. A day where you don't feel welcome in most places because everything is set up for and focused on couples. If you, as a single person, show up somewhere you're often seen as messing up the natural order of things even more than usual.

As it approached this year, I was dreading it even more than usual, but I wasn't really sure why.

When the opportunity to do something with others who were also single came up, I jumped on board quickly.

But, that still didn't remove the question of why I had been dreading this day even more than usual this year.

Then, a few nights ago, I was at a gathering for singles and I heard someone else put words to why. 

It can be a lonely night when you're longing for connection with people. Feeling like most of society expects you to stay home along that evening because you don't have a significant other emphasizes and amplifies any loneliness you may already be feeling. Maybe even more as we seek to rebuild the connection opportunities that were lost through a couple years of COVID.

So, maybe I dread today a little bit less now because I know I will have some fun with other singles. That I will have that connection I crave and the God created us for.

But, think this leads to a bigger question that I've been talking about in the last couple of blog posts I wrote as well.

If God created us for community and connection with each other, how do we create that in our churches - for every adult, whether married or single?

Why Someone Cancelling Plans is so Hard as a Single Person

 "Why are you so disappointed when I have to can plans with you? It's not the end of the world.

I've been asked some version of that question by a lot of people over the years. And, while I know there's no malicious or hurtful intent in the question, it drives the disappointment deeper. Because, now I know I've been misunderstood on top of the plans I thought I had being cancelled.

I understand that stuff happen and things come up in life that mean previously made plans need to be cancelled. That's a part of life, and I do my best to understand.

But, that shouldn't mean I don't get to be disappointed. I'm not trying to guilt you or pressure you. But, I've now gone from having plans to do something person to another evening or day alone . . . again.

Now, I'm an introvert, who truly values my time alone. But, there comes a point when I need people, when I need community. The last thing I need it more alone time right then, so the cancelled plans hurt and are disappointing - even though I understand life necessitates that sometimes.

I may not be able to hide my disappointment in the moment, although I will do my best for your sake. I don't want to make you feel bad when you had no choice.

But, I guess the situations where cancelled plans are the hardest are when it seems like there's no reason why they had to be cancelled. I hadn't been able to put words around this situation for a long time. A couple of months ago, I was reading a book that explained it in a way I'd been unable to.

In her book, Turn Toward the Sun, author Mandy Hale, better known as "The Single Woman" online, writes this:

"And here's the thing you need to remember, too, if you are married or in a relationship or have kids or all of the above and you're cancelling plans with a single friend: You tend to have built-in and consistent community in that you at least have kids or a significant other. There's a good chance that you were the community for the week for the person you just cancelled on, and they likely had been looking forward to spending time with you all week. And now you've bailed on them at the last minutes, giving them no time to make other plans and essentially stripping them of their community for the week. So, yes, it is a really big deal to cancel plans, and it might impact the other person's mental health in ways you can't possibly see in the moment you shoot off a one-line text message standing them up."

That may sound a bit harsh at first read if you've never thought about it before. But, it resonated for me when I read it.

Even on the days I go to work, there's not community there all the time. We try, but work has to be done, and sometimes all we communicate about is work - possibly even, only by digital means.

And then I go home to an empty house.

I'm happy to do lots of things alone. And do them regularly.

But sometimes, it's really nice to do them with someone.

So, even if it doesn't always seem like it to you, sometimes cancelled plans feel like the end of the world and my disappointment is going to be obvious. I'm not trying to guilt you with it.

So, what am I asking in writing this?

When you think about cancelling plans with your single friend, pause for a moment. If you don't have to cancel, then don't. Sometimes, a half hour coffee because you're tired is better than all plans being completely cancelled.

And, when you do need to cancel completely, don't tell me it's no big deal when I'm disappointed.

The Power of Simple Words

 "Do you want to sit with me?"

The friend who asked me that question likely had no idea how impactful those seven words would be.

A simple question that we would normally just assume. A simple question that we likely don't notice the significance of most of the time.

The conversation that led to that question happened in a church sanctuary before a service. In the big picture of all my years in church, there's really nothing unusual about this interaction. 

So, why was it so significant this time?

It was  reminder of the importance of the little things when it comes to making people feel included and welcomed. These very simple things can make the difference for someone in how they experience things.

Church has felt very different for many of us since coming back after COVID restrictions. And for me, this has primarily been noticed in the fact that none of the close friends I used to sit with in church are there - for many different reasons. Sitting in the same area I used to sit in now means being surrounded by people I don't know well, if at all. Their faces are beginning to become familiar, but they're still mostly people who I only know by name.

That has made it easy to feel invisible, alone.

Not because people aren't friendly, but because I feel like I don't know them and they don't know me.

It's made me a lot more conscious of how I respond to people I see at church. The things I say or don't say can have an impact on what someone's experience is. And that means it's important.

And aware of how I talk to those I know, but maybe not as well. Sometimes a simple invitation to sit together could be the difference.

That Sunday evening service when I friend, who I hadn't seen in a while, asked if I wanted to sit with her, made a difference for me. I wasn't totally sure I wanted to be there that night. I was tired . . . and I was tired of going to church and sitting alone. In seven words, my friend changed my experience that night.

And, it can be a simple choice to just make an offer to someone. We have to be intentional, but it's not always a big thing that's needed.

What are the words of invitation, welcome, care that you can offer to those you interact with through-out your day?

When You Feel on the Outside

 It was another one of those moments when I felt like I didn't really belong. No one said it. No one was trying to make me feel that way. But, in that moment, it's what I felt.

I was sitting around the lunch room table with my coworkers for our usual Friday morning coffee and donuts. Conversation and laughter was plentiful. But, on that day I felt like I was sitting outside of the group, eavesdropping on a conversation I wasn't a part of. A conversation I couldn't be part of.

Most days, the fact that I'm single and have no kids doesn't matter. The reality that I'm the only one in the office without a spouse or kids isn't noticed or mentioned. And it didn't come up on this Friday either - at least not in anything any of my coworkers said.

But, for me, that was all I could of that day. As stories about things they'd done with their families or that their kids had done or said were shared, I felt completely outside of the conversation. I didn't have any of that to share. I'd spent my evenings for the last week sitting at home alone. And I sometimes secretly wondered if others got tired of all my contributions being about my niece.

The experience I had that morning left me thinking about things. I've written a lot in the last few years about singles and the church, about what the Bible actually says about singleness, and about friendship as a single person. But, I've never really written about what it looks like at work.

Maybe because, in some ways, my work environment is different from most others because I work for a Christian organization.

But, I think it's more because I was hoping that there was one place in my life where being single didn't impact things. Except, being single and not having kids is part of who I am regardless of the setting. 

So, what is my point? Conclusion? The reason why I wrote this?

It really has little to do with work. It's about the moments when you feel like you're on the outside, eavesdropping on a conversation. And how that can sometimes feel as a single person.

Even though we don't want to always be focusing on our differences in groups of various kinds. It's worth taking time to be aware that not everyone in the group has the same set of circumstances in life. Regardless of the similarities that brought you together, there are differences and it is helpful to be aware of that.

There are times when being sensitive to other's lives in conversation is important. Being aware gives us grace for the moments when someone feels like they're outside the conversation. Most of the time, there's no intention by anyone to make someone feel like they don't fit in the conversation. It happens without planning and no one is aware of it except for the person who feels that way.

Sometimes it may be something as simple as shifting the conversation for a while. When you notice someone has gone quiet or seems to be disengaging from the conversation, that could be a sign it's time to change the topic for a bit.

It comes down to making sure that everyone feels cared about. Taking the time to acknowledge all the people present - even the quiet ones.

That Friday morning conversation with my coworkers, changed for me when one of my coworkers asked a question about something they knew I was doing with my niece. In that simple question, I no longer felt like I was outside the conversation, or that no one there wanted to hear more about my niece. 

It really can be that simple. But, it means we have to be paying attention and be aware of what people are experiencing.

When We Just Need a Hug

 We're living in a world where hugs, handshakes, pats on the back seem like distant memories.

I wrote a post a little over a year ago talking about why hugs are so important as a single person. Really it was about why people getting physically close to us is important. 

Lamenting the sudden lack of physical touch and the need it revealed.

Now that we're two years into this new reality, it's something that has come up again. While it might not feel quite as taboo to be close enough to someone to touch them at this point, the rules have still changed. There's a hesitancy. A constant need to ask a question first.

And I get it. I understand. Some people still aren't comfortable with it. Some people never were and are enjoying the way it is now better. I always want to be respectful of people and where they're at.

But, here's the other side - from someone who has been living it for two years.

I need that hug.

I need that hand on my shoulder.

I need that person who gets closer to me than 2 meters away.

My new reality has become that I can easily go 3 to 4 days without anyone getting anywhere close to me. And the only regular hug I can count on getting comes every time I see my niece.

I feel the lack of it. 

I feel it in the tension in my shoulders that has become the norm.

I feel it in the increased irritability that seems to always be there.

And I feel it in the positive effects when I do receive a hug. When the tension and irritability seem to soften for a bit.

As I've been reading through the gospels lately, I've noticed something I'd never really paid attention to before. When Jesus healed people, He almost always touched them in the process. His words alone were powerful enough to heal them. He didn't need to put His hands on them. Yet, He most often did.

Why?

I think Jesus knew the healing and restoring power of physical touch. He saw these people requesting healing ad He knew they need more than just the removal of the disease or physical infirmity. He saw the pain and suffering caused by being outside of community and He healed that too.

We also see Jesus prioritizing healthy physical touch when people were bringing their children to Him and His disciples tried to send parents away. Jesus stopped His disciples and made the children coming to Him important.

Jesus' ministry show us an example of physical touch in healthy ways being important. And, now, we live in a society where it's been pushed aside, where the rules for it have change significantly. But, our need for it hasn't changed.

So, what do we do now? How do we more forward?

As things shift again, we need to make space for those who are comfortable with it and need it, to get those hugs again, to have someone actually sit beside them.

Because I know the difference hug makes. I just experienced in a surprise, short visit with a friend.

Acknowledging the Loss

 You've probably heard it referenced a lot. People talking about the losses of this pandemic. And there have been many for many of us.

Maybe we're tired of hearing about it.

Maybe we're not sure what we're experienced qualifies.

Maybe we just don't know what to think.

Maybe we would rather just ignore it all.

Tomorrow is my birthday.

Not one of those years we usually make a bigger deal of. But still my birthday.

For the last few weeks, my sister has been asking me what I want to do for my birthday. I've likely frustrated her with my lack of answers.

No patio I wanted to have supper on.

No takeout I wanted to pick up.

No food I wanted to make for supper together.

No activity I wanted to do.

Just nothing.

I've never been on to plan things for my birthday. I've done nothing for more of them than I can count. It's just never really been a big deal to me.

But this year, something was bothering me as my birthday drew near. And it made me want to just pretend it wasn't happening at all.

It took me a few weeks to figure out what was going on. What was bothering me was that I couldn't have a few friends over to my house, that I couldn't go out for a dinner or dessert with a group of friends.

And it had nothing to do with whether I actually would this time.

It was about not having the choice - for the second year in a row.

But, it was about more than that too. It was a realization of how long it's been since I could just be with my friends sharing food and games and laughter.

It reminded me of something I read a couple months ago. The article (that I can't find now) was talking about grief over the losses of the last year. Yes, the losses to death, the losses of jobs and security. But, not just those losses. The losses of the seemingly smaller things that are still important to us.

When I first read the article, I wasn't sure I agreed, so I just left it and didn't think much about it. Until the last couple days. Until I realized I was dealing with a loss. A different kind of loss than the ones we usually associated with grief, but a loss nonetheless.

We can probably all name some of those losses in the last year. And it can be easy to minimize them because they don't seem as big as someone else's loss. But that doesn't help us. We can't compare our losses to other's losses.

Whatever the loss we're dealing with, we need to acknowledge it for what it is. Allow ourselves to deal with the emotions that come from the loss. Take if to Jesus and let Him meet us in it.

Then we can begin to walk again.

So, tonight, I acknowledge the loss I'm feeling of that opportunity to be with my friends on my birthday or just a regular Saturday night games' night. It's been a long time. And those nights were important in many ways.

And tomorrow, I'll celebrate my birthday with the people I can be with. Thankful for what I do still have, even in the midst of the loss I feel.

It may not be what I wish it could be. And it still hurts. But something does change when it's acknowledged. Spoken out loud. Shared with somebody.

So tonight I leave you with some questions. Questions I've been wrestling with the last few days.

What loss are you feeling? No matter how small you think it is, it's still a loss. And it's not about comparing it to others.

Have you acknowledged it and taken it to Jesus?

I Just Need a Hug

 Who knew the day would come when I would be hesitant to utter (or write) those words?

Who knew the day would come that someone could say those words and not have an abundance of people offer an immediate hug?

But, that is the reality of the times we're living in right now. This isn't the time of greeting people with a hug.

(Before I go any further, let me be clear on one thing: This is not a space to debate the response to the current pandemic. There will be no tolerance for arguing about whether the right decisions have been made. I am talking about a need many have and how we can respond in a challenging time.)

Anyone who knows me will tell you I'm not a big hugger. I enjoy giving and receiving hugs, but I'm not someone who just hugs everyone I see. But, even I have reached the point where I would hug almost anyone willing to hug.

I understand why it's not happening right now. The reasoning makes sense to me. I get it. I'll respect the rules, guidelines, public health orders of this time.

I didn't realize how important something that seems as simple as a hug was to our health until that was limited and removed in most cases. I live alone, so there's not an option of people to hug in my house every day. This time has made me all the more grateful for the couple of people in my life who I do still get to hug - although sometimes that's still not enough.

And, if I'm struggling with this right now, then I can't even imagine what it's like for those who are huggers - for those whose default greeting of someone is a hug.

Science and human experience tells us how important that physical contact with others is for your health - physically, spiritually, emotionally. 

And, so I've been wrestling with this question:

How do we deal with our need for physical contact - for things like hugs - in a time when we need to limit our physical contact? What can we do?

Because if I'm honest, I'd just go for being able to sit closer to someone than two meters apart from someone.

I know from experience, the good a hug can do. I've been in situations where it calms my anxiety in a moment. I feel my shoulders relax. Even though, it doesn't remove the worries or hurts, it eases the pain and stress of it.

There is lots out there that supports to science of the good hugs do for us. A simple search will bring a lengthy list of scientific articles and news stories about them.

So, what does all this mean? How can we meet this need right now?

I don't know that I have a clear answer on it. I don't know that I have the answer.

But, what I will say . . . hug the people who are in your circle right now. Make the space for that, because I think we all need it right now.

And care about those who you can't hug. Take the time you can to still listen and be there. It might be the same as a hug, but even those conversations with others who care, who I know in other circumstances would freely offer a hug, still help.

Hug those in your circle as much as you all need to.

Listen to and care in other ways for those you can't hug right now.

It's Strange Right Now

 Can we just acknowledge it . . . ???

Church is a little strange right now. Well, all of life is. But, today, I'm talking specifically about church.

For some, church is still online. Sitting in your living room, logging onto your computer.

For others, church may have begun to gather again. But, it definitely doesn't look the same. Doesn't look the way we're used to it looking.

But, as I discovered when I could walk into the church building I'd taken for granted, it is also good to be back. Even though I know the church isn't a building and that just because we couldn't gather in our usual place didn't mean we were no longer the church, there's still something about the place we gather as the family of God. 

As I've arrived for church and watched others arrive and find a seat in this strange situation we find ourselves in, I've realized that for the first time many are feeling something I've felt many times before - long before things became what they are now. There's something that I'm recognizing in their faces that's familiar.

You see . . . when the place you sit is carefully chosen and you're not just sitting close to everyone else in the room, it can feel lonely. You can feel like you're completely alone, even when there's other people in the room. When you have to keep the appropriate distance between you and others, it can emphasize those feelings of being alone. And, even moreso for those who are coming to church alone right now, when they would usually come with others.

I've struggled with since being able to go back. In some ways, the fact that I'm single is more emphasized than ever, because I can't just find friends to sit with. But, it's also a familiar feeling for me. There have been many times when I've walked into church, and not seeing anyone I would normally sit with, felt very alone int he group.

So, speaking from experience, maybe I can offer a bit of encouragement in this time: Let's be intentional about loving one another. Be compassionate. And offer that smile and hello. Even though we can't stop like we normally would and sit down to have the conversation or give a hug to someone,  we can still be the family of God and care for and love each other.

And don't be afraid to acknowledge that it feels strange. That it's hard. That, although we might be glad to be back, we're also still struggling with how we have to do things to be back.

Community When we Can't Be in Each Other's Space

I've talked a lot about community and our need for it, about the loneliness of our society, about how things are different when you're single in the last year.

And, all of that is even more important in our current circumstances.

We need each other now - more than ever.

But, how we show up for one another looks very different right now. The method of our community has changed, but it hasn't removed our need for it.

If I'm honest, I've struggled with exactly what I'm writing about in these last few weeks. In many ways I've never felt my need for community more acutely, and struggled with how to find it.

These are strange times, hard times, difficult times . . . and I've heard or seen on social media from enough of us to know we're all struggling in some ways with this. Whether we're at home with family or living on our own, whether we're working or our work has stopped for a time, nothing feels like we're used to it feeling. And we need each other as we walk through this.

So, how do we show up for each other right now? How do we create community when we can't sit around the same tables as one another?

Churches have created some space for it, with services online and Bible studies and small groups through video conferencing. Providing opportunities to learn and worship and pray together.

But we need even more than that. We need to stay in touch with friends and talk about what's really going on.

And that means we have to change the way we do what we always do. If you're like me, you pick up your phone to text a friend more often than to actually phone them. And when you can see each other, that works. But, I'm learning right now to pick up my phone and use it to actually phone a friend. I need to hear the voices of other people right now.

It looks like having people you can reach out to in the moments you're struggling to just let someone know and not feel so alone. And being that person for people too. Sometimes we might only be able to send a text in those times, and that's OK too. The important thing is that we don't keep quiet and hide when we're struggling. We need to have people we can tell, and people who can tell us the same thing for themselves.

I also had a friend teach me yesterday through her actions what it looks like to show up for each other when we can't go for coffee. Knowing I was struggling, she decided to do what she could. I heard a knock at my door, but when I opened it, no one was there, just a bag with a card. Letting me know she cared and was praying. A small act that did more than I could ever describe in words for how I was feeling.

It also looks like standing in the back parking lot at work, 2 meters apart from one another, with coworkers, checking in how we're doing with this all and with all the changes it has brought in our workplace. Stopping in the midst of all we still need to do and listening to one another for a few minutes. Acknowledging the way it feels and letting each other know we're not alone even when things look a lot different than we're used to.

So, can I encourage you in this time: look for ways to reach out and connect with people - family, friends, neighbours. We need each other more than ever. And we have to get creative in how we show up for each other, but we have to keep showing up for each others.

What do we do about Loneliness? What is the Solution?

Friendship.

As my series this fall on loneliness finished up, I knew that what needed to come next was a discussion of friendship and community. If we're going to deal with the loneliness epidemic in our culture, then real friendship and community is the only solution.

But, even as I knew this, I felt completely unqualified to write anything on the topic. Most of the time I'm not sure I'm qualified to write on what I talk about on my blog, but this topic leaves me feeling even more unqualified than usual.

The question I've asked myself is: What does an introvert with social anxiety disorder possibly have to say about friendship and community that can help anyone? Especially one who has often struggled with friendship and not done well in this area.

But, if I've learned one thing over the time of writing this blog, it's that most of what I write teaches me something in the process of writing it. That seems to be why I write anything - to learn it myself.

So, I guess this is my invitation to join me in this. I don't promise to have all the answers or to be able to tell you exactly what the solution looks like in practical ways. But, about loneliness and not also talk about friendship and community.

Many of the books I've read on singleness in the last year, talk quite extensively about this topic, because it's important, for all, but I would argue especially for those of us who are single. As a single adult, I have to be that much more intentional about friendship and community. It is appallingly easy to go through an entire week without seeing or talking to anyone but co-workers about work. Or to go an entire weekend without seeing or talking to anyone.

I've had many people tell me I'm lucky that I can do that, or that it's a good thing. And, I do need time alone, but that I can isolate myself from others so easily is not a good thing. And when it happens, I pay a price and so does anyone who does that.

Friendship and community doesn't mean we're never alone. But, when we can disappear and it's not noticed, we have a big problem. And it's a contributor to our culture's loneliness epidemic.

Sam Allberry puts it this way in his book 7 Myths About Singleness:

"The sad reality is that there is now an appalling paucity of friendship in many of our churches. FOr our Western Culture, and, sadly, for much of our church culture as well, friendship is largely dispensible. When it comes to intimacy, our focus is on the romantic and the marital. But this is all a far cry from what the Bible has in mind when it talks about friendship."

I wrote in fall about intimacy and ho we've forgotten what it actually is. (Find the post here.)

I think in many ways, we need to grasp a better understanding of intimacy to see friendship as the solution to the loneliness epidemic.

"Our society, including the evangelical church, struggles to imagine a relationship that is intimate, fulfilling, and committed yet is not the result of striving toward a sexual union. Because of this, both the idea and the practice of friendship are under assault." (Christina S. Hitchcock, The Significance of Singleness)

So, we need to change this, but how?

That's what I want to explore.

I know I've painted a bit of a dismal picture in this post and I'm going to leave it that way this time. But, there is hope to come. Stay tuned.

Beyond the Categories we Use

"What if we in the church saw each other not as people in different categories from us but as fellow human beings with needs - basic needs like comfort, affirmation, and encouragement - we could help fulfill? What would our lives and churches look like then?"
(Gina Dalfonzo, One by One: Welcoming the Singles in Your Church)

These questions challenged me to think and to dream in the couple of months since I finished this book.

What would it look like if we did this well?

Or, even if we attempted to do this and stumbled along the way?

So often it's easy to draw lines around age or marital status and segregate people into groups based on this. And there is space for this . . . sometimes!

But, I think that, overwhelmingly, we need to crossing those line and forming relationships with people who aren't just like us.

It takes work.

It takes grace.

It takes being willing to have sometimes difficult conversations.

Most importantly, it takes time and being willing to listen. Rather than make assumptions about what people need, want, or feel, we need to stop and listen to what they're saying and then respond the best way we know how. This take investment - it requires time and our energy.

But the rewards are big. Our world grows.

And we often find friends in those places we least expected to.

One of the biggest reasons I've heard for why people only want friends who are just like them if that other people don't understand what it's like if their lives are different. But, as Gina Dalfonzo writes, speaking specifically of friendship between married people and single people:

"You don't have to understand everything your single friends are going through. The truth is, you can't fully understand it, any more than they can understand what you're going through . . . Yet, that doesn't mean you can't be friends." (One by One)

Being able to completely understand everything isn't a requirement for friendship.

A little later in her book, Dalfonzo writes:

"To be thoroughly understood, to talk with someone who's been where you are and really gets it, is a wonderful and valuable thing. But it's not a necessary element of friendship, or even of kindness and respect. . . . We need people in our lives who understand us. . . . But we also need people who are coming from different backgrounds, stages of life, and points of view. We need these people to help us broaden our perspective, look at life from different angles, and get out of our comfortable shell. And they need us too." (One by One)

I'm really glad for the friends I have who get things without me having to explain it - the friends who understand easily. I've written about the need for this recently. We need that.

But, just as much, I appreciate the friends I have whose lives on the surface look very different from mine. I need them too. Often their perspective on things is different and it helps me see what I've missed.

When we draw lines based on surface things to separate, we miss out on this. And when all our friends are the same as us, we also miss out on the beauty of having people who do truly understand. If that's all we know, we don't place the same value on it. We need both friends who understand because their lives are quite similar and friends who don't the same way because their lives are different.

What Can I Do?

What can I do?

How can I fix things?

These questions, or some variation of them, are the most common questions I've been getting recently from people, mostly married, who have read at least some of what I've been writing.

I've tried to offer practical suggestions as I've gone, but sometimes I haven't had a specific answer for what I've written. I'm still not sure I do, but I've come to one conclusion that applies universally to all of this. Really, it applies to any interaction with any person in our lives.

Before I get there though, I want to address an unspoken and probably unrealized implication of these questions. Asking about doing or fixing makes it sound like a project of some kind. Like there's some sort of "one-size-fits-all" solution out there that just has to be applied and everything I've written about will just go away.

Guess what? That solution doesn't exist . . . because this is about people and relationships, not projects to fix or complete.

Gina Dalfonzo puts it into words better than I could:

"Single people aren't projects to be fixed. We're fellow brothers and sisters in Christ, making the journey through life alongside the rest of the church, and dealing with a set of circumstances and experiences that take a lot of grace and strength to handle - which can't always be easily fixed with advice, scolding or rules." (One by One: Welcoming the Singles in Your Church)

I\m not sure that first sentence can be emphasized enough: "Single people aren't projects to be fixed." Approaching things this way doesn't help - it actually hurts all involved.

So, maybe, instead of "what can I do" or "how can I fix it" we need to ask a completely different question. One that goes beyond just looking for a solution and gets to the heart of the relationship and community aspects all of what I've been writing is really all about.

Maybe the better question is actually:

What do we all need to do differently on our part to move through these challenges?

The answer is really not that hard to say. But, living it actually proves to be much more difficult.

Dalfonzo writes:

"If I could take one guess at what the single person is your pew might say to you, given the opportunity, I would guess that it's this: listen. Please listen. Take the time to ask questions, to let the person answer, to hear without judging or jumping in with canned Christian formulas or buzzwords." (One by One)

Listen.

Ask questions.

Don't just look for the quickest advice you could give. Most of the time, advice isn't even necessary.

It's really as simple and as difficult as that.

When I'm in a conversation with some and I say something about being lonely, I'm not looking for advice or instruction on what I should do to change that. And I'm definitely not looking for advice on how to find someone to marry so "I'm not lonely anymore." I don't need to be told that I should be content with life right now.

In that moment, I'm just looking for someone to acknowledge that I feel that way and that it's hard. I just need someone to care. If you can make plans with me to do something to help with that feeling of loneliness, great, that's bonus I'll always appreciate. But, if you just listen and acknowledge how I feel, you've done more than most. And it makes a bigger difference than quoting Scripture or other people's advice at me.

I have a few friends who are really good at listening, asking questions, and caring. They're the ones I'm going to reach out to what I've struggling with some of the things I've written about recently. And I hope I do anywhere near as well as they do when they're coming to me with a struggle they're having that I may not have experienced.

Listening is key. It's where we have to start. It's what we have to keep doing. It really is the answer to what we can all do to make a difference as far as loneliness and the connection with others we need goes.

We All Need Intimacy - It's Much More than You Might Think

What comes to mind when someone says the word intimacy?

If someone asked you to define it, what would you say?

If you're like many people, it was a pretty small box and involved a specific relationship between two people.

I took a chance and googled "definition of intimacy." I wasn't sure what would come up or if I would quickly regret that search. I don't know about beyond the first page of results of the search, but that first page was safe and gave some interesting insight.

There were two things that came up on that first page - definitions of the word from a variety of dictionaries and articles on web-pages for a few different Christian organizations. As I read through what I found, I was struck by a couple of things.

First, the dictionary definitions were generally quite broad and spoke about a friendship where was some level of familiarity between the friends. This was well before any mention of and quite separate from a mention of sexual relationship we often assume is meant by the word intimacy.

Second, it was the writings from Christian organizations that made intimacy out to something was only part of a sexual relationship. Whether they meant to or not, I think most who read those articles would walk away thinking intimacy was only sexual.

Ina time where we talk about how highly sexualized our society is, seeing this made me wonder if we, as the church, aren't at minimum, unwitting contributors to it. Now, I didn't go looking any further for websites that spoke about intimacy from a non-Christian perspective because I wasn't sure what I would find. But, I am left with some questions about Christian contributions to the conversation.

In limiting our discussion of intimacy to sexual relationships, I believe we're missing out on what it should and could be. And, we're contributing to the loneliness epidemic - especially among single Christian adults by doing so.

Sam Allberry addresses this topic quite extensively in his book 7 Myths About Singleness. He writes:

"But the choice between marriage and celibacy is not the choice between intimacy and loneliness, or at least it shouldn't be. We can manage without sex. We know this - Jesus himself lived as a celibate man. So did Paul. Many others have done so as well. But we are not designed to live without intimacy. . . . In the West, we have virtually collapsed sex and intimacy into each other. Where you have one, you are assumed to have the other. We can't really conceive of genuine intimacy without it being ultimately sexual."

But, in doing so, we've missed the point. And we've contributed to the loneliness epidemic we're in the middle of.

So, what is intimacy? What does it look like?

It's friendship. It's those friendships where you allow each other to get close enough that you can speak words of encouragement and challenge to each other. Where you're vulnerable enough with each other that you could hurt each other if you broke the trust of that friendship.

Once again, Sam Allberry explains it well:

"A friend is someone you tell your secrets to, someone you let in on the real things going on in your life. They're the one who really know what's going on with you. They know your temptations, and they know what most delights your heart. They know how to pray for you instinctively. This is true intimacy. In our world, being deeply known and deeply loved often feel like alternatives. We worry that if someone really knows us, they might not love us as much. . . . By its very nature, friendship is a wonderful form of intimacy. The friend is the person who knows you are your sparkling best and shameful worst and still loves you. To be so deeply known and so deeply loved is precious." (7Myths About Singleness)

All of this has led me to wonder if at least part of the problem with the loneliness we see and hear about and experience ourselves if that we don't really know how to do friendship well anymore - especially friendship with people whose lives don't look exactly like ours.

Why Loneliness is Different for Singles: Part 2

What makes singleness different for singles?

In my last post, I started talking about how loneliness is different for singles. As I was writing, I realized that it was too much for one post. And I was concerned this next point would get missed or buried in the length. In my mind, this is the most important reason why loneliness is different for singles.

(You can read Part 1 here if you missed it.)

The most important reason why loneliness is different for singles has nothing to do with having friends.

It has everything to do with what you do with those friends.

". . . having people to do nothing with is quite important to singles." (Sam Allberry, 7 Myths about Singleness)

When I read that the first time, my response was: Yes! Someone finally put it into words that might make sense to others.

This is a big deal.

Allberry goes on to say:

"There are times when I feel emotionally tired but really want company, so it's great to have friends you see often enough that you don't need to spend your time together catching up. If one problem is friends you barely get to catch up with, another is friends you only catch up with. It's easy for married friends to forget this, because they already have people to do nothing with, and having people to with whom to do nothing is not necessarily a need they're conscious of."

I don't want everything I with people to be about what we do or about catching up. It's good when we don't always have to do that.

The most life-giving memory I have of this is when some married friends invited me to go camping with them for a week with their family. Yes, we did lots of things - hiking, games, cooking, and much more. But, we also did a lot of "doing nothing together." We sat in chairs next to each other and read. We sat around the fire in the evening with no expectation of catching up on what was going on in our lives. We sat at the same table, drinking coffee and reading our Bibles in the morning.

I didn't know how much I needed things like that until I experienced a week of it. I couldn't put it into words that I could explain to someone else until now. The idea of "doing nothing together" almost seems like a foreign concept in our culture. But, it's incredibly important that we pay attention to this - especially when there are single adults in your circle.

Often, I don't need an invitation to do something. I just need to be able to be with people without expectations. I know that being alone at that time isn't a good thing, but I'm not up to doing a lot. I really just need to now I'm not alone.

Why Loneliness is Different for Singles: Part 1

If loneliness is such a big problem in the West, why do I approach it from the perspective of singleness? Is there really a difference?

These are questions I've asked myself as I've looked at this topic. I wanted to make sure I wasn't saying something was a factor if it really wasn't. As I've studied, read, and talked to others, I've come to the conclusion that there is a lot about loneliness that is different for singles. There are things about it that need to be addressed.

Some of these things become even more pronounced the older we get as singles. My own experiences make that clear. When I was just finished college and living with roommates my experience of loneliness was different in some ways than it is now, living completely on my own. And I think that makes it even more important to talk about it from the perspective of a since Christian adult - past college and the first few years after college.

In her book, One by One: Welcoming the Singles in Your Church, Gina Dalfonzo expresses it this way:

". . . single people know a unique kind of loneliness."

So, what is this unique kind of loneliness that we face as singles?

I think the bog difference comes in the priority put on relationships with others. This priority doesn't mean we don't value our friends, or value our family. But, how that value plays out looks different for singles.

As Sam Allberry writes in his books 7 Myths about Singleness:

"As a single person, my friends are a lifeline. They're like family. They are the ones with whom I fell more known and loved. . . . I need them. Hugely. But, the fact is, they don't need me in the same way. Many of them are the equivalent of family, but since they have families of their own, the familial sense that I have toward them is not necessarily reciprocated. That might be both good and right, as far as it goes, but it can also be painful at times."

I have good relationships with my family and I am lucky they live in the same city as me, but that's not the case for lots of singles. I relate to what Allberry writes - even with family in the same city. Other singles, who don't have family nearby, relate even more.

I would never say that your family isn't and shouldn't be important for you. But, it does make it hard for singles sometimes who don't have the same family commitment to fill time. I can't even begin to count the number of times I've sat at home knowing my friends are rightly spending time with their families while I long for that to fill my loneliness.

Another part of loneliness that I believe is different for singles comes when we look at the need to always make plans. In her book Singles and the Church Jana Marguerite Bennett writes:

"There is a difference in having someone constantly present, without having to contact a friend and make special arrangements."

This is something that has become a more emphasized difference as I've gotten older. When I had just finished college and still lived with roommates, there was usually someone present and it didn't take special planning to do something. But, the older you get, the more likely it is that you live alone as a single person. And that changes things.

Sometimes it would be nice to not always have to contact someone to not be alone. It would be nice if it happened more easily, or if another friend would initiate the plans more often. I'll be honest that it gets tiring to be the one who is almost always asking to get together. It makes me feel like a nuisance and like no one would notice me if I didn't ask. I know this isn't the intended message, but it feels like this sometimes.

Why is Loneliness a Problem?

"I submit that fear of loneliness is, if not the driving force of our time, at least one of the greatest forces." (Gina Dalfonzo, One by One: Welcoming the Singles in Your Church)

We know what it means to feel lonely from our experiences. If I asked you to describe it, you could probably tell me about an experience of it. We all do everything we can to avoid it.

So, if we know that, why as I writing a post on why loneliness is a problem?

Going back to the words I quoted at the beginning of this post: if fear of loneliness is a driving force of our time, then we need to take a look at how we deal with the fear.

The problem is that what we often seek as the solution to loneliness doesn't really satisfy. And then the feelings of loneliness we experience drive us to do whatever we think will mean we're not lonely any more. Except that it doesn't fix it. And we find ourselves caught in this endless loop of frantic activity because we fear being lonely.

I know this well. I've lived in this endless cycle before. In fact, the realization I was living in it and a desire to stop prompted me to take a closer look at this.

I've that, for me, usually the best place to start with a topic is understanding what the key words mean. I started with looking up the definition of the word lonely.

Here's what the Merraim-Webster Dictionary had for a definition of the word lonely:
          1.a) being without company: lone
             b) cut off from others: solitary
          2. not frequented by human beings: desolate
          3. sad from being alone: lonesome
          4. producing a feeling of bleakness or desolation

Not a very positive definition. And not words we want to hear used to describe us.

The past of that definition that relates to what I'm talking about here is #3: "sad from being alone: lonesome." In my study and in my conversations that seemed to fit most with what was coming up.

And that makes it something we do everything in our power to avoid, because we don't want to feel that sadness. It also made it interesting to have these conversations with people. We don't like to talk about it in general. But, once I asked the question and created space for it, people had more to say on the topic that I expected.

I noticed an interesting and troubling connection in these conversations. Jana Marguerite Bennett explains it well in her book Singleness and the Church:

"Loneliness is also a problem that people might wish to avoid. One scholar suggests: 'the very word 'lonely' carries a negative connotation . . . signalling social weakness, or an inability to stand on one's own.' So, too, singleness becomes a problem, partly because of its associations with loneliness."

Since we see loneliness as a problem to avoid, the association of it with singleness means we often begin to see singleness as a problem too. We do one of two things because of our fear of loneliness: (1) we push single Christian adults away, or (2) we present marriage as the answer to their loneliness.

As Bennett writes earlier in the introduction to her book:

"No wonder singleness appears as lonely, because for Christians it often is. In addition to the suspicion cast on single lives, church culture promotes marriage and coupledom even to the point that some singles stop attending church."

I talked to many other Christian adult singles who talked about loneliness because they felt forgotten or pushed out by the church; or, when they did say something about their loneliness, they were told to "just get married" as the solution. (Church experiences obviously varied widely on all that I say when I talk about what I've heard - from really good to really bad and everything in between.) This is a huge contributor to the loneliness epidemic in our culture, in our churches, and specifically among single adult Christians in our churches.

The good news is that there is hope for change. As Bennett writes:

"Loneliness need not be a part of the single life."

But for it not to be, we have to understand and do things differently. That's ultimately what I want to write about in this series.

One of the Greatest Challenges of Our Society Today

"The most terrible poverty is loneliness, and the feeling of being unloved."
                                                                                                 -Mother Teresa


Words of wisdom and challenge from a woman who lived and ministered in the midst of some of the greatest material poverty on this planet.

As I've wrestled with and continued to read and study about singles in the church, there is one topic that continually rises to the surface.

More than anything about sex and purity.

More than anything about often being stuck with young adult or college-age groups, long past that age, because some churches don't know what to do with us.

More than anything about the marriage and family emphasis, and in some case dare I say over-emphasis, in churches.

More than anything about the struggles of balancing work, home, extended family, and friends all on your own.

What is that topic?

Loneliness.

And it shouldn't surprise us. The Western World is caught up in the throes of a loneliness epidemic. In our hyper-connected, always-on world, we lonely like we've never been before.

We live in a world where we have hundreds of "friends" or followers, but few, if any, real connections. Many of those friends or followers are only surface relationships at best. We've bought the lie we've been told that we don't need anyone and we're paying a high price now.

It's easy to read what I've written, see it in the world out there, and think we're safe from it in the church. But, the reality is, the church has exactly the same problem.

Our churches are filled with lonely people. And, those of you reading this are likely among that group - at least sometimes.

We don't have to read Scripture for long to see that we need each other. Almost anywhere you turn, you read about our need for relationship and community with others. God didn't intend for us to do it alone.

A quick online search on loneliness brings up countless articles on the health effects of loneliness and the harm it does to us. Our society is waking up to the problem of loneliness. But, in all the reading I've done of these articles, there have been no solutions offered. The problem is clear, but the solutions aren't.

In every book and article I've read on singleness and the church in the last six months, loneliness is the topic that keeps coming up. It's obvious that loneliness is a problem in the West in general. but, I think it's even more of a problem for Christian singles in the West. In saying that, I'm not discounting the loneliness any one of us feels, at least some times. But, as I've read, reflected on my own experiences, and talked to other singles about this, I've started to see a few things that are important.

Much of what I say will apply to all, regardless of whether we're single or married. But, some of it comes specifically from the perspective of a single person.

I don't yet know how many posts will come on this topic. As I get deeper into it, ti's becoming bigger and more intriguing that I imagined. But, there will be at least a few posts to come.

As I finish this for today, I want to leave you with a thought from Sam Allberry from his book 7 Myths About Singleness:

"Our deepest aches and yearnings for intimacy will only ultimately be met in Christ. That's not to minimize the importance and goodness of friendships in this world, whether in marriage or outside of it. Such human intimacy is a wonderful gift from God and something each of us needs. But, while we don't want to minimize this, we do need to revitalize it. It will never be ultimate. We will always need something that is whole levels of magnitude more."

Allberry isn't saying we just need Jesus. The "just me and Jesus" thought only goes so far. We need other people to walk alongside.