Solitary Sundays...

This morning I drove to church. Alone. It’s the first time in a good while that I’ve gone to worship the Lord by myself, and somehow, there was something almost painful about the solitude of the car ride. I guess it’s just that I’ve gotten accustomed to the reality of worshiping God in the company of friends. And this morning, when the friends were all busy elsewhere, I suddenly realized how large a part each one of them has come to play in this day that I claim belongs to the Lord alone.

As I drove, listening to the radio playing in the background, and absent-mindedly glancing at the other drivers on the road, I wondered silently to myself why it is that we, as humans, are often times so afraid to face the harsh reality of being alone.

What are we afraid of? I whispered. What am I afraid of? What is it about myself that I’m unable to face in solitude and silence? Am I running? Am I trying to crowd out the voice of conviction? Is God attempting to speak, and am I really listening?

I glanced into my rearview mirror and saw a sporty little blue Corvette preparing to whiz by me on the left. I shook my head.

We live in such a state of frenzy that we don’t allow ourselves time to think…to listen, I thought ruefully.

Over on the right shoulder lay a deer—dead, bloated, swollen with decay under the rays of the October sun.

Maybe that’s what we’re afraid of, I whispered. Afraid of being separated from the pack, of falling victim to our circumstances, of being forgotten, of being insignificant…of being left to rot while life goes on all around us.

It’s true. As humans, we desperately want someone to care. To care about the individual within us, to care about our circumstances, to care about the burdens of our heart, to care about the emotional wounds and the psychological scars…we yearn to encounter someone who loves deeply enough to come alongside us with Christ-like patience and humility, and—upon seeing us lying there in the mud with bloody knees and tear-stained faces—who will have the compassion to reach down, grab our hand, and pull us to our feet again, reassuring us that the race can be won, that the goal is in sight, and that the battle is worth fighting.

As I watched the deer fade into the distance behind my car, I was struck with the realization that if indeed this was what I wanted, then doubtless everyone else wrestles with that same yearning, on some level or another.

I head something whisper, in the back of my mind, that this desire—perhaps the most intimate longing of our hearts—is filled not by seeking out those who will give us attention, but by first seeking the heart of God, and then seeking to meet the needs in the hearts of others...

And so it was that God placed me this morning beside a young woman who was frightened, shy, and alone…a beautiful fragile soul in need of a reassuring smile and some words of encouragement.

I had to laugh about the whole situation as I drove home—alone—after the service. Because God is so much more capable of meeting our real needs than we can even imagine. And He's so faithful to stretch us outside of our comfort zones to show us our weaknesses as well as our strengths...

Hallelujah. What a Saviour.