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.