It can be part of the farewell routine, “Now, don’t be a stranger”. It could be a well-meant invitation to a relationship that might be familial or the beginning of friendship. Or maybe it’s touching into a loneliness we’d rather keep hidden.
Somewhere inside us we each carry a scrapbook of relationships- memories of people and things we cherish, like holding your dad’s hand or the comfort of your grandmother’s knee, a wedding ring that encircles half a lifetime of togetherness, or maybe a stuffed toy that has seen better days. I’ve heard them referred to as memory-anchors, like the feeling that says “ I’m home” that is triggered by memories that have opened and closed a lot of doors.

Relationships scroll through our days, all are expressed in different ways at different times and all of them are a work in progress. At some stage of adulthood you begin to realize that there will always be some area of life where you feel alone, alienated, where differences can seem irreconcilable times when you feel disconnected, when the things and people that tie you to your inner relationships feel as though they have been severed, and you are alone.
Canadian theologian and writer Ron Rolheiser says you experience loneliness “ in rejection, betrayal, abuse, powerlessness and the feelings you have when you doubt your own attractiveness, intelligence, goodness, strength and emotional stability. “
Jesus felt this loneliness the night before he died. He prayed – yes, but he also reached out to his closest friends. He wanted their physical presence, maybe even their chatter and mutterings or yawns, He reached out for company he could see and feel.
There are always words that can’t be spoken, family disputes that can’t be harmonized, areas of belief – religious, political, sexual – that separate family members or long- time friends. You can be separated from family by physical distance or a silence between you and your partner. You can be felt with a feeling that no one understands just who you are, what makes you tick. It’s a lonely place to be – feeling vulnerable, unable to share it, somehow humiliated.
It was Jesus who said “Always treat others as you would like them to treat you.” And he was speaking from experience. Human beings are made to belong – through physical touch, through conversation, and through what poet David Whyte calls ‘the mediation of the intellect and the imagination’. As my mobility decreases I find reading not only fills up some lonely spaces in my life, but it also puts me in touch with the writer, their skill and the world that they deliver to me.
The aloneness that so often comes with aging, can gift us with a renewed appreciation of our personal individuality, reintroducing us to the place in ourselves where we make room to listen to voices and beliefs other than our own, especially the young people who are changing the world that we believed was ours.
It can give us the courage to reach out to others, not with our wisdom, though sometimes that might be appropriate too, but into the ordinariness of daily life – the checkout cashier, the baby who smiles at us from their stroller, the equally lonely person who always calls just when our favourite show comes on.
Lonely and alone are not the same. We can drown in loneliness, while alone gives us the time and space to sit gently with our lonely places and share what we find there with a God who understands.
Judith judith@judithscully.com.au

Thoughts and words to ponder on,Judith, as we do have our lonely moments. So comforting to know that God loves, cares and listens.
What a lovely reflection Judith, thank you!
Great start to the weekend Doug. ________________________________
Thank you Judith…much wisdom and truth here, unpalatable as some may be at times…
Enjoy your weekend – oh, and by the way, it was my pleasure and privilege to profile you for the readers of Madonna, and as you suggested, who knows where those may words may travel?
With love,
Tracey
Thought provoking, practical, touching…a great article from which to create my dot point list coming out of Covid.
Thankyou Judith for capturing the essence of our “belonging journeys” (alone, or accompanied).
I love your “memory anchors”. It’s an apt description of things that matter to me when I face those alone and lonely times. Reaching out to connect somehow, anyhow, is very potent.
It’s good to be reminded in Lent that Jesus knew what it was like to feel alone! I am so glad we have a God who understands this.
Thankyou Judith for your words of loving connectedness.
Shalom,
Catherine