Feelings of Loneliness
2022 has left me with a lingering sense of loneliness that I'm sure many of you can relate to. Having both an infant and a fourteen-year-old was not something I had planned for or anticipated. It's an unexpected and overwhelming mix of parenting stages that sometimes feels like it never ends. Parenting is incredibly rewarding but also incredibly challenging. When I look ahead, I don't see a break in sight. Instead, I see myself potentially becoming a grandmother while still navigating the turbulent waters of middle school years. Don't get me wrong; I absolutely love and adore my children, but I also cherish those moments of solitude that help me recharge. I'm an introvert, and I thrive when I have some alone time to reflect and think.
However, being a never-ending parent doesn't leave much room for solitude. It feels like a daunting future for an introvert like me. What adds to this challenge is the fact that I don't know many people in a similar situation. My friends either have older children or much younger ones. I feel like I'm in a category of my own. The friends my older kids had when they were little are moving on with their lives. They can travel without worries and carpool without considering an infant's nap schedule.
On top of this, I'm dealing with the harsh realities of foster care and a baby with higher-than-average medical needs. It often feels like I'm being left behind, like I'm the only one facing these unique challenges.
But as I sit here immersed in self-inflicted woe, I'm reminded that many of us have reasons to feel alone. Perhaps you're caring for an autistic child, and none of your friends can truly relate, leaving you isolated. Maybe you're raising your children without social media during the middle school years, and you don't know anyone who's making the same choice. Your kids' relentless pleas and the feeling that you're the "mean mom" can make you feel isolated. Or perhaps your husband travels frequently, and it seems like all your friends' husbands are always around to help. You feel like a round peg in a square hole.
The situations may vary, but the feeling of loneliness unites us all. It's something that connects us, even in our unique challenges.
And it's comforting to know that even Jesus felt lonely. In Isaiah 53:3, it's written that "He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." On the cross, He cried out, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" Even Jesus, with His closest friends, didn't fully understand the path He had to take.
In my moments of solitude and loneliness, I find solace in knowing that the Lord understands my feelings and sees me. He's the one who can ease my aching heart, and I can bring all my pain to Him, knowing that He'll carry it for me. He reminds me to focus on the joy and the unique gifts that my situation brings. I'm grateful for the precious lives in my care, like watching my fourteen-year-old spend afternoons playing with her little sisters or seeing my son teaching his baby sister how to walk. My middle daughter's acts of kindness while caring for her baby sister warm my heart, and my four-year-old's sweet songs to her baby sister bring tears to my eyes. They have each other, and that's a gift only God could orchestrate.
They are all learning the beauty of self-sacrifice and the importance of family and caring for others. They're forming bonds in ways I could have never imagined. The Lord is weaving a tapestry that's challenging but more beautiful than I could ever create on my own.
So, instead of choosing to wallow in self-pity and loneliness, I'm making a conscious decision to celebrate the perfect plan that the Lord has for our family. I won't compare my journey to those around me who seem to be "moving on." Instead, I will embrace and firmly plant my feet exactly where the Lord has placed me in this season. And in this shared feeling of loneliness, I hope we can all find solace and strength in our faith, knowing that we're never truly alone, and that God's plans are always more beautiful than we can imagine.
