
If many of us had the choice, we'd marry as soon as possible; we'd do anything to get rid of our singleness. I've begged, bargained, screamed, yelled, cried, and pleaded with God, yet he hasn't budged. At times I doubted he even cared, until he mercifully reminded me of his goodness and his love for me.
So why should we smash the idols and look our loneliness in the eye? Because God wants to do more, say more, and change far more in us than just our marital status. He wants to use our loneliness in a profound way. As singles, we're in an awesome window of time to discover who we are in God's great story and where we're headed. We need to cherish the freedom to listen to God's voice without the hindrances of a demanding spouse or a wailing toddler. Loneliness can be one of God's greatest gifts to singles.
When someone first told me to treasure this time in my life and embrace my loneliness as a gift from God, I thought he was crazy. How insensitive can you get? Don't you know I'd do anything to get rid of this gnawing inside? Yet gradually I've come to appreciate the wisdom behind those words.
Loneliness is a gift from God because it's a continual reminder I'm created for so much more. Not just union with a spouse, but also a deeper connection with my family and friends—and most of all, intimacy with my Creator. Loneliness pushes me forward when I'd otherwise be tempted to settle for lackluster relationships and an isolated existence.
We're all tempted to retreat when we're disappointed or hurt by others. We want to pull up the drawbridge leading to our hearts. Loneliness beckons us to release that kind of control and to engage and connect with others. It's a reminder that we're fueled by relationships and that our tank is empty.
Sometimes, when loneliness gets the best of me, I become angry and bitter toward God. How could he let this happen to me? I conclude he's cruel because he could give me a spouse in a flash, yet he refuses. So I choose to avoid him and just go through the motions of religion. I mutter under my breath in disgust. But then, aware of my need, I fall before him pleading—and he always answers with comfort, hope, or new paths for the future. Without loneliness, I'd run from him and not look back. But I can't, because this creature was created for intimacy with its Creator.
Loneliness is also an opportunity for us to ask God what he wants to let surface in our hearts. It gets our attention and consequently we're driven to ask our Father what he's trying to tell us. What are you trying to get me to notice, Lord? What relational pattern are you trying to free me from? How am I sabotaging the good things you're trying to give me? Would marriage be destructive for me right now? What new thing do you want to do at this point in my journey?
As much as I don't want to admit it, God has used my loneliness from time to time to convict me of sin. He's shown me my bitterness when I've blamed someone else. He's shown me my fear when I've claimed, "She's not my type." And he's also used my loneliness to propel me towards action. I've often found the motivation to hit the dance floor, ask for a phone number, or go new places because I was so tired of feeling alone.
Finally, loneliness brings me to a place of submission and surrender. The weight of a lonely heart is too great a burden for me to bear. I struggle, strain, and grit my teeth to carry the load, but it becomes too much. I'm forced to lay it at God's feet and let him carry it. Surrendering our desires for intimacy to God isn't the same as stifling those desires. When we surrender our desires for romance to Christ, we admit we aren't in control of this area of our lives nor do we want to be. We heed his call to patience. We wait for his best. When we kneel before our Father with uplifted hands, we have his promise that when we ask for bread, he won't give us a stone.
I am amazed at Jesus' example during the last night he spent with his disciples. Just hours away from the most grueling, brutal suffering the Roman world offered, Jesus knew full well what lay ahead. The Evil One was tempting him away from the cross at every moment. When I'm facing a great trial, I need loving, supportive friends around me. I believe Christ needed the same that night. In fact, he told his disciples he yearned for some time to share supper with them. The end had come. There would be no more exorcisms or mass feedings for now. Jesus' predictions regarding his death were about to come true. The horror of the Passion was about to begin.




