All the lonely people, where do they all come from?

“All the lonely people, where do they all come from?” Beatles

         

Photos in this blog are from my beach trip last weekend, 6.14.15.
 Thank you family for my new camera!

      As a single person for most of my life, the loneliness has often times gotten the best of me. I love my Bible, I pray, I have Christian friends but sometimes, life presents challenges that seem almost unbearable. I’ve turned to the Scriptures, again and again to find promises, (verses) that speak to my situation. I have claimed in faith those promises (verses) to be true in my own life. And, God is faithful eventually the heartbreaks lessen, the situations change, but, in the mean time, being alone seems to make going through the pain a lot more difficult.

           Ecclesiastes 4: 9-12

“Two are better than one because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, one will lift up his companion. But woe to him, (or her) who is alone when he (or she) falls, for they have no one to help them up. Again, if two lie down together they will keep warm; but how can one be warm alone? Though one may be overpowered by another, two can withstand him.” 

            I have found the above to be true to some extent.  But, there is a caveat here, which is, two are better than one only if there is love and respect in the relationship. Unfortunately, we live in a fallen world with sinful natures. People aren’t always good relationships partners. People can be overcome by anger, wrath, mental illness, violence, abusive attitudes. When you are with someone like that things get worse, not better.

            The perfect ‘relationship’ has been romanticized throughout the ages. Books, plays, songs, poems, movies all have contributed to the myth that ‘true love’ exists. I do know some people who love each other, and have a good relationship. But, the sad fact of the matter is, there are more people alone, or in dysfunctional relationships then there are people who are in satisfying, rewarding marriages. It is increasingly true that as our culture decreasing commits to Godly values  ‘being with someone’ becomes a poor substitute for being with the right someone.

            For myself, I married poorly. I somehow didn’t seem to have a clue what to look for in a spouse. As a young woman, I had plenty of suitors but who I ended up choosing to marry was the least likely to succeed at being a supportive husband. After an agonizing abandonment by this husband I continued to struggle, looking for that right someone. The wanting to be loved issue was strong in me as well as the not wanting to be alone.  Well, making one horrible mistake doesn’t create a good foundation for making better choices in the future. It’s said, “People can learn from their mistakes.” Yes, this can be true in some senses, but concurrently with that is the fact making horrible choices scars people emotionally, psychologically, and sometimes physically. You can’t go through physical, emotional, verbal and psychological abuse and not have wounded places in your heart. It just isn’t possible.

     Out of those wounded places, I have found that fear grows. It’s impossible not to have symptoms of PTSD that surface in new relationships, affect your judgement and impinge on your ability to be happy. Additionally, for some inexplicable reasons, history seems to repeat itself. The same vulnerabilities that contributed to choosing the first unsuitable mate resurface in the next relationship. I’ve heard some women describe this phenomena like this, “The crazies just seem to be drawn to me. No matter how hard I try to find a nice guy, I keep ending up with the men who yell at me, threaten me, try to control me and wind up hitting me. I want it to stop.”

     I have compassion for these men and women, because from personal experience I know how difficult this cycle of abuse is to break. The longer you are alone, the more you want to be with someone. The more desperate you feel, the lonelier you feel, the more likely you are to respond to any demonstration of caring. You waive the inner cautions, daring to believe, “This time things will be different. He’s not like the other guys, look he’s polite, he buys me things and he says he loves God.”

     And then, something happens, the anger surfaces and the whole abusive cycle begins all over again.

     In my life, I have been beaten, spit on, had a broken rib, lost a baby  as a result of a beating, had multiple bruises, had my hair pulled, been called vicious names, had my life threatened, been threatened with having my children stolen….the list goes one. I have been lied to, lied about and been homeless. I didn’t come from a deprived childhood, I had good parents and lived in a beautiful home. I had every advantage possible; music lessons, swimming lessons, beautiful clothes, family vacations, church camps, my own car at 16, no physical wants ever. I can honestly say, I never had a day in my life when I went hungry, ever.

   

  I was gifted musically and intellectually and was in special classes for the gifted throughout my schooling. Physically I was and am, extremely well, reasonably pretty. There were none of the factors which psychologists could point to for me being unable to be successful in a marriage relationship. The one factor they didn’t count on was my rebellion against God and family values. I embraced much of the 60’s hippy philosophy with vigor. I loved the song, “Are you going to San Francisco…” and without so much as a longing last look left my parents, a beautiful home, and went to live there with an ever-so-much sketchy boyfriend.

   

     One of the first stops we made was to an alley dumpster for him to throw away all my Bobby

Brooks, Pendleton fancy clothes and pare things down to a bare minimum. I should have taken this as a warning and dropped him off at the nearest gas station and drove home to the safety and security of my parents home. I didn’t and over the next couple of years things rapidly got worse. It was as if I’d found the door to hell and couldn’t retrace my steps and get out of it. The hippy philosophy promised freedom, free love and peace. It didn’t deliver any of that but gave instead pain, anguish and heartbreak.

  

     I wish I could say things got better, but they didn’t. They got worse. The relationship, well it finally ended after multiple abandonment's; once while in San Francisco; once while living with my parents in Auburn; again while pregnant with my oldest child and living in Tacoma; and finally while with my infant daughter when living in Vancouver, Washington. What do those multiple abandonment's coupled with physical and emotional abuse do to someone? I can tell you, they break your heart and leave wounds that are slow to heal.

   

      At this moment, I don’t have the time  to talk about the other situations I have found myself in, but from the vantage point of my now 65 years of life I can say this; God is compassionate, He is forgiving, His mercies are new every morning. The pain and suffering I have gone through in these situations has made my heart able to feel the pain of the clients I am with. Working with the teenagers, and some adults, I have compassion for their suffering. I know how confusing life is and how you get into situations that seem impossible to overcome. I know what it is to feel hopeless, depressed and frightened. I know the limits of human resources to touch that pain and give direction.

   

 For the last 10 years I have accepted my aloneness. I have not tried to find a husband to help me face life, I have tried to come closer to God through reading my Bible, praying and attending church. I have found that God is strengthening me day by day to face life’s challenges and the demands of an incredibly difficult job of being a drug and alcohol counselor. I also have found to be true that I need to do a lot of positive self-care. I don’t watch movies, TV, or things on the internet that would harm me spiritually. I visit nature often, drinking in the ocean and mountain air and vistas. I ready my Bible daily, I pray daily, and I guard my heart.

   

 “Guard my heart,” what does that mean you might ask. Well for me it means I try to limit my exposure to additional personal trauma. I work in a chaotic environment, outside of my control, but in my home, I try not to have any ‘awfulness’. The ‘awfulness’ for me could be unpleasant people, situations, or substances. My home is a safe zone. I don’t frivolously flirt with men. (Yes, at age 65, it’s possible.) I don’t go places that are questionable.

   

 I still get lonely. There is a verse in Psalms that says, “The heart knows it’s own bitterness and no stranger shares it’s joys.” That part is hard. I try to pray as much as I can and talk to God about things. I have several friends and family members with whom I can share some things, but by in large most things I keep in my heart.

     But, I am so blessed. Right now I am hearing the sounds of birds singing outside my window in the woods next to my home. The sun is shining in golden waves on the cedar branches draping over my back yard. I have money to go buy fruit, and milk and other food. I am in excellent health. It s sunny with a brilliant blue sky. I have the entire day off and, I can drive later to the mountains, river or ocean and hike my beloved trails. I have peace in spite of multiple situations that could threaten my financial security at any moment. I am blessed.

 “His compassions fail not, they are new every morning.” Lamentations 3:22-23

     There was a Beatles song I sang to as a teenager, “all the lonely people, where do they all come from.” Well I know where this lonely person came from and after all is said and done, everything I learned at college, through reading, and listening to others does not compare to the strength and comfort that is found in trusting in Jesus to help you cope with the heartbreaks of life.

There’s an old Ira P. Stanfill song that I’ve often played on my piano,

 I traveled alone, upon this lonesome way

My burdens so heavy, and dark was my day
I looked for a friend, not knowing that He
Had all the time, been looking for me

Chorus
Now, it is Jesus and me, for each tomorrow
For every heartache, and every sorrow
I know that I can depend, upon my new found friend
And so till the end, it’s Jesus and me

Note: you can listen to this song on U-tube sung by different artists.

“May the God of all comfort, fill you with joy and peace in believing.” Romans 15:13

Take care and be blessed.

Robin

A word in due season...................

Note: Please read the added note at the end of this blog. Robin

 

   It is mid-morning here in the small, coastal Oregon city where I live. Yesterday torrents of warm spring rains drenched the trees, lawns, flowers and me as I journeyed to see the Doctor. Somewhat ironically, after weeks of waiting to see if I had cancer or serious heart issues; (which I didn’t), I am now sick as a dog with what I think is pneumonia or bronchitis. Searing chest pain, coughing, headaches, sneezing, fever, I am a mess. The doctor, kind, older diagnosed bronchitis, prescribed rest, fluids and antibiotics and sent me home. If I’m not better in four days they will do x-rays to see if it’s pneumonia.

     And so I’m home from work again today. I’m weak and weepy. I cried for a long time this morning just trying to figure things out. Praying, asking God for guidance.  I’m not feeling sorry for myself, really, because I’ve been blessed with a lifetime of exceptionally good health. I just am feeling sick, and helpless and weak. So I’m resting, waiting for the chest pain to stop and some semblance of energy to return.

    I’ve been reading through my Bible this morning, trying to find comfort and direction for the hundreds of decisions facing me. I’m asking God to help me understand how to figure things out. I am so tired, and hurt all over. 

     While going through a few chapters in Proverbs, the following verse caught my attention. “Anxiety in the heart of man (or woman) causes depression. But a good word makes it glad.” Proverbs 12:25 Hmm, I never realized before that the Bible talks about depression. But this verse really sums it up; anxiety causes depression.   Ok, I think I know what anxiety means, because I took what seemed like a million classes in Psychology way back when, but I am interested enough I think I’ll look at the definition in the dictionary. Ok, just getting up to get the dictionary the searing chest pain and wrenching cough reminds me I’m sick.

    Ok, anxiety- “Painful uneasiness of mind over an anticipated ill.”  Anxious- uneasy in mind: worried.” Webster’s

    Yep, I know what anxiety means and admittedly right at this moment, I’m there in the middle of it. I have acquaintances who get annoyed with me when I express any kind of worry. They offer advice, well meaning, God is in control. I get that, and probably if the truth were known I’ve said the same thing to others when they were telling me their worries. It makes me consider if maybe comfort might be a better option sometimes to people going through things.

     The second part of the verse in Proverbs kind of gives me an inkling that this might be true. “ But a good word makes it glad.” Calling into work these last few days the two young women who work in the front office are such sweet, nice women. They are so kind to me at work, and now that I’m sick their words of comfort and concern are so welcoming to hear. The nurse and the doctor were both really nice to me, telling me to get better soon, hoping I would feel better. They seemed genuine, not contrived, or fake. One of my children has been checking in on me, seeing if I need anything. I so deeply appreciate that.

      Anyway, back to Proverbs. The verse seemed so timely to me, so full of import, (Anxiety in the heart of man (or woman) causes depression. But a good word makes it glad. Proverbs 12:25) that I decided to follow the cross references to see if I could learn more of what this means, and what it looks like in the everyday world I live in.

     One of the cross references for this verse is Isaiah 50:4, “The Lord God has given me the tongue of the learned, that I should know how to speak a word in season to him who is weary.” Wow, that’s a mouthful, a word in season, to him (or her) who is weary. There is obviously a time, or season to speak the right word into someone’s life. Conversely there is the wrong time, or wrong season to speak into someone’s life. Back to Webster’s, in the definition of season, one of the first things mentioned is, season, as in the action of sowing. You have to wait to plant (or sow) your seeds until the soil warms up, any gardener knows that.

     Well, it appears that in terms of helping others, there is a season, or time for sowing. This makes me think of the concept of timing, God’s timing. Near the end of his life from his hospital bed my father tried to impart some wisdom to me. Among the things he shared was this, “Robin, “  he shared from a weakened form ravaged from cancer, “I have seen God’s hand more in His timing, than in anything else.” This statement from my father has stuck with me through the years and I have recalled it when in my own life circumstances were arranged in a sequence that could only be providential.  

     So, looking back at speaking a word in season, or in the right timing, into someone’s life, it appears that it could be very important to understand, to know when the “right time” is, and more importantly, not to miss it.  For me, being ill, has heightened my sensitivity to people’s responses to me. Those who are kind and caring, shine through my life with a bright, clear light. Those who are not kind, who are not caring, who are callous and self-absorbed are revealed by the cold, clear light of reality. It’s not at all difficult to sort the people out and to realize how precious and sometimes rare kindness is.

     It reminds me of how in Proverbs, kindness was extolled as the greatest virtue a man could have in God’s eyes. Not how powerful a man is, or wise, or rich, or famous but how kind. For me, speaking a word in season leans more towards comfort then rebuke, or exhortation. I think this because of the second part of the verse that speaks to the fact that when a person is weary, they need that word of comfort, of encouragement.

     Right at this moment, weakened by illness, discouraged by situations outside of my control, my hope is in God. I need a miracle, a way where there is no way. Oh, it’s not for lack of looking that I don’t have solutions, it is the fact that I’m not able to find answers that make pratical sense. For example: my roof is leaking in two different places.  I’ve asked several people to help and they said yes, then forgot me. I don’t have thousands of dollars anymore to invest in a roof repair. What do I do? Do I wait until someday, it falls on my head?

     I pray. I called the insurance company and they will cover the two missing shingle repairs as weather related, with the caveat there is a 1000 deductible. Great, that leak will be stopped. But it’s not the only leak, there’s another one, not weather related that is creating damage on my beautiful vaulted ceiling. I’m working and don’t qualify for low income home repair loans. A divorce a number of years ago ruined my A-plus credit. So, for now I’m stuck. I can’t get on the roof, I tried, I’m not strong enough to pull myself up over the top of the ladder, so I can’t try to fix it. Although I did google roof repair and read through the various ways to try to stop a leak.

     So these worries, (multiple needed home repairs) are anxieties that wear me down, and wear me out. What will God do in this situation? I don’t know, I’m waiting feeling somewhat like a pathetic fool, but still I’m clinging to the promises, “I will yet praise him for the help of my countenance.” I will yet praise Him for the help for my roof and the rest of the home repair list. I watch a lot of Hallmark movies where they show homeless people living in abandoned buildings. I’m starting to feel like that. I have a home but it’s breaking around me. Being sick, I sort of feel my body is breaking around me too.

      It encourages me to read my devotional books and read the words of others who have struggled in life circumstances. They speak from the pages of these books into my life words of comfort in the seasons of my weariness. Through the years of their lives they collectively share this common refrain, “God is faithful.” No matter what happens, He is still there. Whether in good times, or bad times, He is still there and He will comfort and strengthen you in the middle of the storm. I realize how fortunate I am compared to millions in the world. I still have heat and light and food. I have medical insurance and access to medicine and doctors. My suffering is nothing compared to many who are in dire straits. I am not in dire straits, just a few bumps in the road.

“God is faithful and will not leave me desolate, but will make a way of escape so that I am able to bear with this current situation.” ( My paraphrase).

   

 To those of you who are reading this, take hope. God loves you and knows what you are going through. Weeping only lasts for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

Take care and be blessed. Keep praying and things will change, He promised He would help when we call, and He is faithful.

Note: After finishing writing my blog, I went to watch some TV and rest in my easy chair turned on 700 Club. Don’t usually watch it but thought, maybe there would be something interesting. The first sequence was about an Los Angeles police officer who graduated from the police academy and prayed, “Ok, God. I’ll accept any assignment only please don’t send me to Skid row.” The police officer was sent to Skid Row and has worked there for 17 years. He spoke and shared as scenes from Skid Row were shown; people in desperate need; sleeping on the street, sick, addicted, desolate. I watched this until it completed.

    I then watched another segment about orphans. The woman sharing told about over 148 million orphans worldwide. She spoke to their needs, their risks, their plights. After watching these two brief stories of suffering I realized again how fortunate I am. Yes I am hurting physically, and worried, but I have so much. Food, home, money, faith, family, safety. How many of the people represented by Skid Row and the orphans could claim to have those things? Probably none of them.

      I am lucky, I am fortunate, I am blessed. Hopefully I will feel better again. Will I remember this pain and think to help the helpless? Or will I plan my next vacation? I don’t know. Because I work in a “helping” profession that brings me into contact with a lot of the more unpleasant sides of humanity I have kind of rationalized that takes care of me helping outside work. By the time I’m done with my 40 plus hours, I’m exhausted and just need to rest. When my suffering is over, will I forget and move on or will I remember? And out of that remembering will I look at ways to help ease other people’s suffering? Will I?