Once upon a time, I worked in ministry. During that time, I actually did not "like" people…at all. You see, when you work in ministry, or really in any helping profession, you find that other people really expect you to deal with their shit. Shit they should probably be dealing with on their own. You know, personal shit. Shit that just gets handed to you without really thinking about it. Most of the time, they do not even think about how you cannot even take care of your own shit!
Okay, now that I have reached my cussing limit and the world is out of toilet paper so there is no cleaning up that last paragraph, I think I have your attention. We need people. I need people. But we cannot be with people right now.
I once described myself as a lone wolf to my therapist and a few of my mentors. I was good at handling other people’s problems, but when it came to my own, I escaped into the woods and turned off all communication. Literally, I would put my phone on airplane mode and get lost at a local state park. Occasionally, I would howl at the moon – perhaps why I needed therapy – and wonder why it was so hard for me to rely on, or trust others.
Admitting you need someone is hard. It is much easier to isolate yourself. Until you come to a place where you do not have the option to ask for someone’s help, leaving you stranded and isolated; hoping that you will have another shot at connection and promising you will not waste it; because in that moment of isolation all you desire is: Someone. Anyone. Hear me. See me. Know me.
After weekly therapy – because life got pretty dark there for a while – and some amazing friends who pulled me out of the “lone wolf” phase of my life, I discovered how much I really loved people. I was not an introvert after-all, and truthfully, I was pushing people away because I was afraid of people who were actually willing to be there for me. People who wanted to hear me, see me, and yes, know me!
Right now, we are in a time where we are all approaching a period of isolation. We are discovering what it means to lose connection with people and become our own versions of a “lone wolf.” From strangers to people we love dearly, we are finding that phone calls and video chats cannot replace a hug. Honestly, I am afraid of what this means.
Let us all go ahead and say it – introverts as well – whether we want to or not: “I am afraid of being alone.”
After years of fighting it, and finally escaping isolation, I do not want to go back.
Nobody wants to be here.
But here we are.
Redemption is perhaps the most important message of the Christian faith and perhaps the most important message we need to hear right now. Because, redemption is making something beautiful out of something that appears hopeless. Redemption is reclaiming something that appeared lost and illuminating its glory when it is found. Redemption is connecting the incomplete to the thing that makes it complete.
As my pastor said in his address to the church, “In these uncertain days, may we redeem this time.”
Yes. May we redeem isolation and emerge from it anew. May we redeem our friendships and relationships by staying in contact using the resources we have. May we find our hope redeemed in this world by discovering how much we need each other. May we learn that we are people meant to be connected because when we are seen, when we are heard, and when we are known, we find that we are loved!
Never underestimate the value of one another.
Let us take full advantage of this time of isolation. Redemption is possible.