Have you ever been in a crowded room and felt as if you were on a deserted island? The feeling of loneliness seemed to permeate my whole body. I know I wasn’t really alone, the Holy Spirit lives in me today and did then too. I am married and have been for the past 21 years to a wonderful and loving husband. We raised three children in a busy house and volunteered our time at church. How, you ask, could I possibly have been lonely?
I tried so hard not to let the internal struggle I was experiencing show. In hind sight, that was a silly notion. People could see I was struggling, they just didn’t say anything and probably, the real truth of the matter was they didn’t know what to say. My struggle caused me to withdraw creating an impermeable layer around me which moved with me as I walked through life. It got bigger and bigger until I really was an island. No one could reach me through my agony.
The struggle of living just seemed to great. I was adrift emotionally, spiritually, physically, and mentally. Unable to communicate honestly with myself, or anyone else, I continued to close in on myself. Sure that defense was the best offense and I would be able to protect myself I had actually left myself defenseless. The firey darts of the evil one easily pierce the best armor a human can create. I had cast aside my spiritual armor with distaste and created my own, believing I was better able to equip myself and protect myself than my God and Savior.
I could hear myself screaming. No one came, no one heard.
I was so wrong. On my island I watched my life pass by. I did not participate, I was there but not present in the moment. Oh, I had a smile on my face when appropriate and I could make a pretty good show. But it was fake, on the inside I was screaming for someone, anyone to get me off this island. To come alongside in my pain, to ask how my island life was working out for me. No one ever did.
If I see you suffering on an island of your creation, I will stop and talk to you. I will accept you where you are and love you. I will hope you will invite me to your island and thus begin the process of finding your way back to those who love you.
This is one of the most difficult journeys I have made. It took me a long time to see my island really wasn’t deserted. I had simply moved everyone to the edge and was standing in the center as far from them as I could get. They were waiting for me to become willing to share my pain and admit I needed help. It was a slow process and one I hope never to go through again.
Please know you are not alone–even though you may feel like you are on a deserted island.