Jesus Knew Loneliness, Too

Almost three years ago, my husband Hunter and I accepted jobs in central Ohio and planned a cross-country move we knew would change the trajectory of our lives forever. We were elated Hunter landed a full-time ministry position just outside of Columbus right after he graduated from college. 

When we arrived in Columbus, our lives immediately spun into nonstop chaos. The demands of Hunter’s job were exhausting for both of us – I was also trying to navigate a new full time job for me! Each day that passed, we were too tired to finish unpacking our lives from our latest move and left dozens of boxes unopened, shoved in a back closet and stacked in the garage. “We’ll deal with those when things calm down.”

Things never calmed down. The boxes remained taped shut, and our apartment was simply that – just the place where we slept and ate, never our home. 

A few months into this lifestyle, we were drained and burnt out. Our tanks were empty, and we felt like we could not give anymore of ourselves without internally combusting. I knew ministry would be hard but didn’t realize it would be difficult like the way it had been.

One Saturday evening, I remember sitting with Hunter on our couch in our not-home, and I was absolutely dreading going to church the next morning. 

“I am so lonely.” 

We hadn’t established our own community, support system or people we could run to when our ministry grew too difficult, too wearisome, too isolating. All of our friends, mentors and family were 10-12 hours away in completely different states. It was impossible finding someone who knew and loved us for exactly who we were. 

Loneliness can take us captive at any point in our lives. High school student. College girl who can’t find her people. Single as your friends are finding their significant others. Post-grad in that weird place between college and establishing your career. New parents so unsure of how to properly raise their child in a broken world. Empty-nester. 

I think Jesus was lonely, too. 

After finding out John had been beheaded, he was immediately followed by thousands of people and couldn’t properly grieve until after the miracle of feeding them loaves of bread and fish (Matthew 14). Right before the betrayal of Judas, his friends fell asleep while they were supposed to be watching and praying with Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane (Mark 14:32). His own disciples did not understand Jesus’ purpose for coming to earth (Luke 18:34). The night of his betrayal, Peter pretended not to know or be associated with Jesus three times (John 18:15). 

Jesus knew loneliness well. His response to loneliness? Going to the Father. 

“And he would withdraw to lonely places and pray.”

Luke 5:16

He knew and often chose lonely places. His response to loneliness mattered because he met the Father in those places.

Our response to loneliness matters, too. It’s okay to feel lonely, but will we let loneliness take us captive? Hold us hostage? Will we consistently live in loneliness? Or will we run to the Father and seek his face? Dwell in his presence?

Christ is with us in these lonely places. A year ago when I started seeing a counselor, she recommended I think of a place where I feel most at peace during times of anxiety and stress. I immediately thought of an olive grove beside a Tuscan villa I lived in while studying abroad in college. 

I feel sunshine on my face, the grass between my toes, smell freshly baked focaccia bread in the villa down the hill. The sky is blue, the trees are the most beautiful olive green color – my favorite. Lunch of pesto gnocchi is almost served. My taste buds are ready! 

In the beginning, I used this place to escape pressure, restlessness, doubt, and of course, our friend loneliness. But as time passed, I transformed this olive grove into something more. I created a sanctuary where I visualize God and I meeting face to face, especially when I experience isolation. 

Lonely and isolated is a dangerous place to be. Thankfully we are never truly alone. The Lord walks with us and leads us through the shadow of the valley of death and by still waters. On the highest mountain and through the lowest valley, the Lord is with us, guiding us.

Praise God because I’m not sure if we could have endured the last three years without the Good Shepherd leading and walking beside us.

Two years have passed since that evening on our living room couch. Thankfully, we finally found and built a small community who loves us for who God made us to be. When we were on the brink of our breaking point, we literally asked them, “Can you guys be our safe people?” They let us yell, cry, vent, laugh, grieve, express our frustrations, and they hold our hands while we do. 

I still meet the Lord in our olive grove. During times of loneliness, celebration, joy, sorrow, emptiness, thankfulness. I think Christ knows exactly how we’re feeling when we meet God in our lonely places. 

Find your safe people and find your safe place where you meet God.

Photo credit: Toria Law