Epidemic

 The World Health Organization has declared loneliness a global issue. Referred to as an epidemic, the weightiness of being lonely has an equally devastating effect on one’s physical health as smoking fifteen cigarettes a day. The impact on mental health is also catastrophic. Incredibly, it seems that professionals have estimated about one in every three people is struggling.

On the other hand, we live in an era of continual human contact. Rarely do we go a single morning without receiving a message on one of our many apps. We can listen to recordings of songs, sermons, books, and lectures without a break if we wish.

In fact, many people have a deep dread of sitting with themselves in silence and facing their own fears and beliefs. Many of us stay busy constantly rushing from one activity to another. But something is missing.

I’m not so sure that what we’re facing in our Christian communities isn’t less of a loneliness issue and more of a connection issue. The problem is not as related to how many people we see as it is to how many real connections we make. It’s less about our proximity to humanity and more about learning how to be vulnerable with those we do encounter.

Obviously, we aren’t expected to bare our souls to each person we meet. The truth is, while we are meant to bear one another’s burdens (Galatians 6:2), none of us have the capacity to bear every burden of every person we come in contact with. Nor are we expected to place our troubles into the hands of someone we have not formed a trusting relationship with.

But it’s too easy to live in our own small orbit without being open to anyone. And the more we digest of the world around us, the harder it often becomes.

Many of us live with comparison (2 Corinthians 10:12) every time we attend a social event. We see how the sister across the room is so much more socially adept than I am. We recognize the gifts of the woman who comes bearing delicious food and bustles around the kitchen. We notice the perfectly fitted dresses and carefully coordinated outfits. We see the well-behaved children and the pleasant smiles and instead of recognizing that these are the gifts and graces of a generous God, we begin to ruminate on our perceived lack.

These thoughts quickly lead us into believing we are different and alone. Almost without realizing it, we start to cover up our insecurities however we can. There are many ways of doing so, but all lead back to us withdrawing our true selves and making sure no one discovers the inadequacies of which we are far too aware.

The more we draw back, the more terrifying the idea of vulnerability becomes. And somehow, we start placing blame on other people.

"They should be the ones reaching out."

"Why aren’t I ever invited along?"

"If someone else was facing the same situation as I am, plenty of people would have offered help."

And so it is that we withdraw even further. Not only that, our vision starts to become clouded with self-pity and bitterness. No longer do we merely sit with sadness and disappointment, we find ourselves becoming judgmental as well. It is easy to forget that I have a part to play. Does anyone even know you are going through a trial? Do they know you could use help? While we are to be saints on earth, we are only human. We are not able to “just know” what is going on in someone else’s life if they haven’t shared with us. While the Holy Spirit can and does move in us to reach out to others, it is part of the beautiful plan of God’s Family that we be open and allow others to help us.

It's so easy to try to be independent. There are many things we can do by ourselves. Some are even capable of carrying great weights completely alone, but this is not a safe path to travel. Much like you should never go spelunking, free diving, or wilderness hiking alone, neither should we try to live our lives without the companionship of others.

Many times we excuse ourselves from vulnerability because, we say, we don’t want to burden someone else with our troubles. That may be a valid concern at times, but so often it is completely unfounded. I want you to remember the time someone was vulnerable with you. That moment when they trusted you with the true things of their heart. Were you upset at the extra weight you were given?

No, of course not.

Rather, when someone entrusts their true self, battered, bruised, scarred, and broken into my hands, I count it the greatest privilege. It is an honor to have that trust bestowed on me, and I know I don’t deserve it. I feel unworthy of their confidence. I am sure you feel the same.

Know that you and I are not the only ones who feel that way. There are many sincere and solid people of faith in your community who would be equally blessed in the knowledge that you were able to be open with them.

What do you get out of openness?

A lot, actually.

Letting someone else help bear our burdens relieves our own minds of some of the weight. We have more capacity to face the responsibilities we have. We have more support—whether physical or the simple support of prayer. And with our willingness to be vulnerable, we open our hearts to true shared connection with someone else, doing just a little bit to combat loneliness, whether our own or someone else’s.

Above all, it is God’s plan that we are a connected people. I don’t think it’s taking 2 Corinthians 12:9 too much out of context to add my own thoughts. The verse says, “…My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness…” I always understood those words to mean that God Himself would step in with His strength to fill in my gaps, and I do believe it means that many times. However, I’ve recently begun to see how this verse applies to a vibrant brotherhood where the strength and beauty of God’s Spirit becomes evident as we come together to lift one another up.

Humbly holding the weakness of my sister up before the Lord, whether that be physical, spiritual, or emotional, also has the effect of making me more aware of my own needs and weaknesses, my own insufficiencies and dependence on those around me. As we become aware of our neediness, it is then we move closer to one another and closer to God, making a strong, united body.

My own light and wisdom is not enough to walk the path all the way Home. I need my Church family to help me. It’s my desire to grow in vulnerability in a way that will honor the perfect plan of the God whose name is Love.

 

 

6-7

Recently, Dictionary.com announced its word of the year. To quote, the word is chosen by reflecting on “social trends and global events that defined that year.” Some past examples are as follows: demure (2024), hallucinate (2023), woman (2022), allyship (2021) and pandemic (2020).

The word of the year for 2025? 6-7.

6-7 is a slang term that has evolved from a secular song released a year ago in December. It quickly made its way into the world of basketball, and from there it was short work for it to start appearing everywhere. Well, everywhere, perhaps, except my vocabulary. I remember reading references to the trend months ago, talking about teachers in the public school system being frustrated by the seemingly random use of the word.

But what does 6-7 mean?

Dictionary.com says this: “Perhaps the most defining feature of 6-7 is that it’s impossible to define…It’s meaningless, ubiquitous, and nonsensical.” The word can take on whatever connotation the user wishes—including annoying responses (“How are you?” “6-7.”), as a dismissive answer, an interjection, or when indecisive, somewhat like a verbal shrug.

What does choosing a word that doesn’t even really have a meaning say about the global position of humanity? I cringe to imagine.

Here we are, clutching at a word that you can’t even grasp because there is no substance. And that is a very good illustration of where many people are finding themselves.

We’ve worked so long and hard to get rid of all fences, lines, rules, and boundaries. We say we want freedom from societal expectation, from other people’s opinions, from whatever binds and restricts what we want to do.

But it isn’t making anyone happy.

We were created by a God we cannot comprehend. It was His delight to give us free will. However, our very souls know He is greater than we are. Because the soul recognizes a supreme God, there is unease and insecurity when we step away from submission to His laws. We are like boats without anchors, kites without strings, footballs bouncing across a field. There is no order, no safety, no stability.

1 Corinthians 14:40 says “Let all things be done decently and in order.”  Our God is a God of order. Sometimes, it is true, we get caught up in our ideas of order and forget they are different from God’s. While we often focus on the small physical things (exactly what shoes are acceptable, how a hostess ought to receive her guests, maybe even which drawer in the kitchen towels belong in), God is much more interested in the heart and our submission to Him.

Interestingly enough, true submission to God also requires that we submit to the order of His Church. Although my feelings may sometimes be aroused when I see how things are carried out or decisions are made, it is vital I have an innate understanding that my safety and security is in abiding within this structure.

Our anchors must be steadfast in Him. Our respect and trust for and in our Heavenly Father will be a grounding power that will give us always a safe place to land, even amid the confusion around us. “For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace” (1 Corinthians 14:33). There are many who are nearly drowning in confusion. It is easy to find ourselves in a similar state. The Evil One wants us to question the Church and its guidelines and the inconsistencies we see. He wants us to take note of the way the governments around us seem to be spinning out of control. He likes us to feel bad for calling evil things sin, as he would much rather we give allowance to both our own flesh and the flesh of others by taking a live-and-let-live stance.

I don’t want to be a 6-7 Christian, wandering in aimless confusion. I want to embrace the guidelines of the Church and the encouragements of my fellows. I want to have open and honest discussions about the things I don’t understand, but still appreciate that my own desires are subject to a Higher Power. I want to be willing to recognize that in the view of God, my own ideas are nonsensical. My will is only at rest when submitted to His.

The funny thing is, when we have guidelines we feel so much more confident. I won’t question my use of the word “captivate,” for example, because there is a prescribed way to use it. Contrarily, the word 6-7 which allows for so much freedom makes me uneasy. When is it socially acceptable to use? Exactly what does it mean if someone says it to me? What is an appropriate response?

 And so I commit myself to clinging to something solid—the God of Love. I commit to finding joy in the boundaries He provides. I commit to abiding in the peace that only comes from Him.

And I hope that you will join me.