In the first week Robert probably saved
my life. It was a preventative measure, and it was high school, but
his impact on my life was enormous. He may not even know. It's
amazing how we can change one another's lives so nonchalantly.
It went like this: I'd graduated 8th
grade from St. Paul Lutheran as part of a class of 32 students, which
was a record at the time. Most of my classmates went on to small
Christian high schools. I went to a public school where I joined an
incoming class of over 500. I knew about seven people, and I rarely
saw any of them. Being alone was bearable for the six hours out of
the day when there was class but lunchtime bad. Lunchtime was
terrifying.
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| Photo by: The U.S. Army |
The cafeteria was packed, but somehow
it was never crowded enough for me to inconspicuously sit anywhere.
The tables were round, so sitting meant approaching a group. I was
afraid to sit with a group who might reject me, so I sat alone at an
empty table and my table stayed empty all through lunch. It felt
pathetic to be so alone in such a crowded room. The same thing
happened on the second day. And the third day. I felt so lonely I
wanted to cry.
On the last day in that cafeteria I sat
down feeling insignificant, awkward and alone. Then Robert walked up
to me and changed me life. I'd seen Robert at St. Paul and at church
but we hadn't talked much.
“Come on” Said Robert, “We don't
eat here.”
I didn't know exactly what he meant but
he was talking to me and that felt nice. He said “we” too, which
felt even better. I followed Robert and he lead me to a little nook
in the science hall where he and the kids from the Christian Club
ate. Maybe it's dorky that we had a club, but I really needed those
people. I ate with them every day for the next four years. They
were there for me when I needed a place to belong. They were my
family when I was alone.
Being alone is the worst. We weren't
created for it (Genesis
2:18), and God wants better for us. We're meant for families,
both real families and adoptive families. I don't meant to say we
ought to never take a moment alone. I'm an introvert and I need time
alone, but even as an introvert I know I cannot survive without a
loving community.
I believe there is no comfort like that
of truly belonging. Sadly we often live without the supportive
communities we were created to thrive in. We hang back from meeting
new people because we imagine we aren't interesting or cool enough.
We avoid friendships we think will carry too much work. We don't
share our struggles because we tell ourselves we aren't important.
We even hold back encouragement and compliments so we don't appear
too attached. We keep one another alone when we were created to be
in awesome communities. Brothers and Sisters, this is all very dumb
and we need to cut it out.
I know that it is hard to offer or to
ask for help. It requires vulnerability. We get hurt when we're
vulnerable, but it's so totally worth it. Jesus made himself
vulnerable so that we could have a relationship with him. He got
hurt, but still thought we were valuable enough to do it anyway.
Jesus loves us, thinks we're terrific, created us exquisitely, and is
excited to walk through life with us. With our confidence grounded
in him, we needn't fear rejection. When we reach out, the worst
thing that can happen is that someone may decline our awesome
friendship. That's sad to be sure, but the way I see it it's their
loss.
Root yourself in Jesus and take
confidence in knowing he's crazy about you. Then reach out and love
somebody. You just may save their life.
