Finding Strength in Loneliness and Healing

Hey friend, 

It’s been a while. Fortunately, or unfortunately, my schedule has changed, so, for now, I am putting a pause on my visits to Dr. M. However, it’s only a pause. 

But I do want to tell you that I dreamt of her again. It was a few nights ago, and I haven’t been able to shake her since. This time, I saved her from getting swept away. The little girl, this time with pigtails, was wearing her little yellow raincoat and floating down the street, crying, and no one intervened. When I noticed her, I stopped mid-sentence and I ran as fast as I could until I caught her. And for that, I’m proud of myself. Because the little girl is me, and I know it. It’s taken a long time to get here, but now, instead of drowning out the cries with busyness, I follow the trail. I follow the sound of the cries, and just like with Hansel and Gretel and their breadcrumbs, her cries lead me right into the darkness. Sometimes, it leads to me as a toddler crying unattended in a crib, other times it’s me walking cold, barefoot, and alone, hanging off a cliff, or standing in the middle of the street. But, if there’s one thing for sure, I’m alone, I’m scared, and I’m crying. 

If you’ve ever gone no contact or have had to create a painful boundary, you’ll probably understand what I’m about to say.Today, I pulled out my phone to count the days, and immediately, I regretted it. It’s been more than 26 days since she last reached out. 26 whole days. And to give you some insight into how my brain works, I asked my best friend, Google, on Day 23, about the decomposing process. Because reality is, I could be dead. And at 23 days, all that would remain of me would be tough tissues, hair, and bones. As the reality sank in, my eyes filled with tears, and this time I didn’t choke them down. I allowed them to fall. And some might ask, well then, why not pick up the phone and call your mom? And I understand where they’re coming from. I really do. 

But a few days ago, as I sat in my dress at the airport patiently waiting for my flight, I crossed my legs and I couldn’t help but notice the scars running down my leg. They’re faded now, and maybe most won’t see them, but I do, and they serve as a constant reminder that some wounds leave profound scars, even after they heal. And although she didn’t physically cause them, her neglect absolutely did. So maybe one day I will be able to call her, and it will be without pain. But first, I need to venture into the dark. I need to follow the cries. Because they might have stopped crying out for her, but now, they’re crying out for me. 

And as I walk through the corridor of life, I’ve learned that sometimes there’s a crowd with me, sometimes it dwindles, and sometimes, even those who love me the most, need to pause at some doors. There are just some places they can’t go with. And it’s in those times, and in moments of loneliness, that I’m just now realizing those places are reserved just for me and him. Because, even when I feel like I’m navigating in the dark alone, I’m not, because he goes with me. And you know what? I feel so dumb right now. And if you’re familiar with Antoine Dodson’s famous news interview, my brain quickly adds, “You are so dumb. You are really dumb. For real.” I say it lightheartedly, but sometimes it’s like the lights are on, but nobody’s home. I know who he is, but I need to be reminded way more often than I care to admit. 

And this is why… 

“The mountains melt like wax at the presence of the LORD, At the presence of the Lord of the whole earth” (Psalms 97:5, New King James Version).

“Give us help from trouble, for the help of man is useless. Through God we will do valiantly, for it is He who shall tread down our enemies” (Psalm 108:12-13, NKJV). 

“As men gather silver, bronze, iron, lead, and tin into the midst of a furnace, to blow fire on it, to melt it, so I will gather you in My anger and in My fury, and I will leave you there and melt you. Yes, I will gather you and blow on you with the fire of My wrath, and you shall be melted in its midst” (Ezekiel 22:20-22, NKJV). 

Holy smokes. (Pun intended.) His presence melts mountains, and so can his breath! Talk about breath of fury! (Pun intended, again.) That’s not anything I would care to experience, but it brings about a whole other layer of meaning! Can you see why I say that I am so dumb?! This is the God that chooses to walk right into the darkness, for me, for you, for us. “The help of man is useless.” And when I look at it in this context, it’s like, uh, yeah. I mean, no offense to man, but if this were jeopardy, I would be saying, “Alex, I’ll take the fire-breathing God for $500, please!” There is just no contest. 

He will walk into the darkest, most painful parts of our lives. So, I can’t help but wonder, when will he, alone, be enough? But then, I quickly realized that I’ll have to ponder that question for another day, because as for today? He is. 

So, what say you? If circumstances never change, is his presence enough? 

In his presence, 

iK