What Saves Me From Nothingness
"It’s not sunshine and roses; instead it’s funerals and COVID. Yet I know this is given to me."
I am sad. . . very sad. Watching my dad die and then two months later doing the same thing with my mom made me recognize how truly alone I am. My presence was inconsequential to either of my parents in the end; what mattered most was Christ and that He would take them home. I begged for Him to come to bring them peace, give me comfort, and to simply be with me in my aloneness. For once, I wasn’t begging Christ to change what I was living but to accompany me. He was my only comfort. I watched them each take their last breath and it showed me what solitude is. It made me recognize how alone I am and all I really have is Christ. Now I am left with an unquenchable need for Him and for meaning. Who are you, Lord? Who am I?
I ache for Him constantly. I wonder if I am replacing my ache for my parents and turning it into an ache for Christ. But ultimately, I know that this is the purpose of my relationships: to point me toward Christ, to allow Him to accompany me through my friendships. Yet sometimes I find myself impatient and unsatisfied with people. All I want is Christ and the meaningless garbage we feed each other to fill quietness makes me disgruntled. I want to revel in the quietness and find the Lord in the relationships. I want to thrill in His presence and share it with each other. I want Him with me NOW.
I do know that I am experiencing the hundredfold, but it’s not what I thought it would be. It’s not sunshine and roses; instead it’s funerals and COVID. Yet I know this is given to me, and I am thankful. I believe that my insatiable need for Christ and meaning has forced me to look and see what is in front of me. I see things I’ve never seen before. Suddenly, everything around me carries meaning. My son flunking a test or my other child missing curfew holds new meaning to me rather than just frustration. My husband’s quiet presence in the other room shows me the constancy of Christ’s love for me, rather than just a man working quietly. These tiny things show me how loved I am by the Lord; that He would accompany me in my frustration and point me to my love for them is a miracle. I am thankful to see it and live it.
It’s intriguing to be living my solitude and rarely have a moment physically alone. I live the fact that the only true constant in my life is Christ. It’s Him and me, forever, period. In living this, I am experiencing life in a new way. When I am quiet in my pain, Someone inevitably reaches in and accompanies me. When I am lonely, He meets me in it, through a person who needs me. I don’t seem to get the opportunity to be numb much right now. Someone or something is continuously pulling me out of my numbness to engage in life. I know it’s Him, “knocking on my heart,” making Himself known to me. It makes me giggle sometimes, to recognize the things he uses to keep me from my nothingness.
Experiencing this makes my need for Him grow. I want Him in every nuance of my life, not as a balm from the pain, but to show me the meaning of it all. It’s odd to say, but I pray that my need for Him continues to explode so I can live more freely. I pray I become one with Christ.
Melissa, North Saint Paul, Minnesota