The first time I ate alone in a restaurant, I thought I knew
what I was walking into. I was well-prepared
with textbooks, notebook, highlighters, pencil, and pen. I had plenty to keep
me busy, and as I walked up to the door, I put on my most nonchalant air, as if
I did this every day and was completely fine with eating out by myself. I
walked in with confidence, but as the waiter left with my order and I opened my
textbook, I found myself face-to-face with the acute awkwardness of sitting
alone in a room full of people enjoying themselves.
I did eventually get used to dining out alone, and now I
even enjoy it…most of the time.
But then there’s other times, like last Wednesday, when that
awkwardness comes flooding in and I find myself feeling alone in the middle of a
crowd.
It all started when I decided to try a pasta place a friend
had told me about.
I’ve been searching for a good place to eat dinner before church
on Wednesdays ever since the friendly little diner I used to frequent changed
hands and became decidedly less friendly. I found this new place all right, and
walked up to the door with great anticipation of finding good food and good
atmosphere in which to study or write while I eat. As I got closer to the door,
I noticed a large sandwich-board sign proclaiming in large and trendy chalk
lettering: “Wine Wednesday”.
Since I don’t drink, the sign had the opposite effect on
me from that which was intended. I turned around right there and walked back to
my car, disappointed, but still hoping I would still find some hidden gem of a
restaurant at which to spend my dinnertime.
Sadly, I ended up at a rather indifferent chain-diner
instead. The music was ear-splittingly loud in the lobby, and not much better
in the dining room. The waitress was friendly -in a distant sort of way- but
took an unusually long time to come to my table to take my order. As I waited
(and waited), I began to notice that the booths around me were full of couples
and families talking and laughing, as well as a small group of ladies –one of
whom was singing happily along at the top of her lungs to the already obnoxious
music.
Eventually, the waitress came and
took my order, and, knowing I very likely had another long wait ahead of me, I reached
for my book to try to stave off my feelings of awkwardness. Just then, my phone
buzzed with a text from a dear friend, and then a different friend texted, and
soon I was enjoying the fellowship of two conversations in addition to the
delightful book I was reading. That brightened my dinner exceedingly, and helped
to dispel my awkward feelings.
I think everyone struggles with feeling “alone-in-a-crowd”
at some point in their lives, regardless of what stage of life they happen to
be in. The truth is, whether single or married, living alone or with a large
family, we all experience that longing for fellowship and emotional closeness
with the people around us- or just to feel included in their conversations or
experiences.
I’ve been reading a book recently by Lysa TerKeurst called: “Uninvited:
Living Loved When You Feel Less Than, Left Out, and Lonely”. (Book review
to come!)
I don’t know much about the authoress, except that she is a
pastor’s wife, and that we differ widely in some areas, (which I fully expect to
stem from some sort of doctrinal disagreement) but so far this particular book
has been very practical and -most importantly- Biblically sound. One of the
chapters deals with this “alone-in-a-crowd” phenomenon, to which I fall prey
more often than I would like to admit. One of her statements, however, has helped
me enormously. She writes about how we can prepare in advance for such
occasions by reminding ourselves,
“I bring the fullness
of God into this place with me. Therefore, I am on assignment to bring His
acceptance and love into this place.”
This takes the focus off my emotions and puts me into
service mode. I am not here to be emotionally coddled or to have my ego stroked
so I feel special: I am here to show God’s love to others, drawing from His
fullness with which He has filled me.
I love what she says next:
“This isn’t some legalistic attempt to earn points with
God. This is an authentic way to live as someone who knows she is truly loved
by God.”[1]
One of the best Scriptures for battling emptiness is
Ephesians 3:16-19, in which Paul tells the Ephesians that he prays to God:
“That He would
grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with might
by His Spirit in the inner man; That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith;
that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, May be able to comprehend with all
the saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; And to know
the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all
the fulness of God.”
Sometimes, my mind just has to have a good, stern talk with
my heart, reminding it of what is true. Being filled with all the fullness of
God is not an emotion, it is a fact, just like God’s love for me. Once I remind
myself that I am in the season God has chosen for me out of His perfect and
loving wisdom, once I choose (yet again) to accept the grace He offers me to find
Him enough for every need and every moment, then I can live full, overflowing with God’s
fullness, even when societal expectations or my own emotions demand that I ought
to feel empty. I can say no to self-focus and self-pity and embrace with my
heart the truth which my mind already knows:
I am never alone, never forgotten -even
in a crowd.
