Community

I sat in the doctor’s office crying. For some, that may not be an unusual event as a doctor’s visit could engender various emotional responses. For me, however, not being one to cry around others – especially strangers -- this was an unusual scene on so many levels. I suppose, though, that life’s events sometimes take us out of who we normally are.

Though this was many years ago, the memory of that day is indelibly impressed in my mind. I was there because I wanted something to make the pain go away, the physical pain from a flared-up back injury, but more importantly, the emotional pain. Just a few days earlier, my entire world came crashing down around me. My marriage ended abruptly, I was fired from my job, my family was unavailable to me and I had nowhere to turn. Betrayed by those closest to me, I was a mess.

I couldn’t even explain my circumstances to the intake nurse. How do you tell a complete stranger “I just found out my husband raped my sister while I was out of town”? How do you nonchalantly describe being fired from your job because your bosses wanted to distance themselves from your personal life? How do you unemotionally explain that everything you thought was running so well just one week earlier had imploded in your face?

I couldn’t; and so I cried.

It wasn’t the calm, sorrowful sobbing that elicits compassion and empathy from everyone else around you. Oh no, this was the ugly, convulsive cry: the one where you are intermittently retching and hyperventilating with fluid spewing from every orifice on your face. It wasn’t pretty, but I couldn’t stop myself. By that point in time, I didn’t really care.

A nurse practitioner was sent in to try to console me. While noble, her efforts in this regard were rather futile. She did, however, succeed in revealing a stark reality about my life that I was forced to accept – a reality that has shaped who I am and how I do life to this very day.

Acutely aware that I was in great distress, she asked if I had someone who could come be with me. I went through the extremely short list of potential prospects in my mind and shook my head no. So she began asking one by one:

. . . my husband? That was an obvious no.

. . . a family member? No. They all lived in a different country.

. . . a close friend? No. My one and only friend was my boss who just fired me.

. . . a co-worker? No. I had bosses over me and staff under me, but no one alongside me.

. . . a neighbor? Not likely. I didn’t even know their names.

. . . a pastor? Nope. I had no need for God in my life, much less a pastor.

As she went down the list, the reality of the life I had created hit me full force in the face. The “independence” I wore as a badge of honor was really “isolation” and I was imprisoned in a world of my own making.

Facing what was one of the most difficult seasons of my life, I felt so lost and completely alone. I knew I would have to walk that journey without any support, and even worse, I knew I was responsible for that lonely reality. I hated that feeling and that awareness, perhaps even more than I hated the circumstances that then defined my life.

From that deep valley, came two remarkably wonderful results. First, it was in that season of being completely alone that I finally found the One who would never abandon me, never leave me, nor forsake me. While I previously thought I had no use for God, I began to realize I needed Him more than I ever knew. I'm very aware that this complete isolation was necessary for my journey to faith because if there would have been anybody there who could possibly "rescue" me, I never would have turned to Him. I never would have seen that He was standing there, all along, just waiting for me to invite Him in to my life.

Second, I now know without a doubt I cannot live life without a community. I need others every day, and they need me. I need their opinions, experience and availability to shape and mold who I am.  They need my voice, my perspective and my time as they are walking their journey.

That I was designed for relationship with God and relationship with others is the driving force behind my life now. I believe we all were. It’s part of our DNA. It’s how God wired us. It’s who He wants us to be and how He wants us to live life. Jesus was not merely being pithy when he summed up the law as follows: “Love God and love your neighbors.” (Matt. 22:34-40). Absent relationship, these instructions are meaningless.

This awareness, however, does not mean I get it right every time. While I am significantly motivated by this core belief, I still struggle as this is not easy for me to do. The reality is I don’t make friends readily and quite frankly, I’m not always a very good friend myself. I don’t feel a need to talk to my friends on a daily basis and have even lost friends for this very reason. I don’t need girlfriends to shop with (I don't really like shopping) and I don’t always have a lot of natural activities that involve friends. But still, I know I need them and they need me, and I don’t want to wait until crisis comes along to try to meet those needs.

So I push myself beyond my comfort zone. I risk reaching out, even when it feels uncomfortable. I share my heart, though it may be the scariest thing in the world for me to do in that moment. I’ve had to learn how to be open and vulnerable and how to let others in. I’ve had to learn how to ask for help. With my extremely independent past, this is still really hard to do. Regardless of my fears, though, I remind myself that they are nothing compared to the devastating isolation I felt that day in the doctor’s office. I pray I will never go back there again.