The third day I was sick, in a row, the baby cried almost every five minutes.
At least it felt that way.
He cried because he couldn’t figure out how to sit back down after he stood up.
He cried because he got stuck halfway between the point of sitting down and standing up.
He cried because he fell over and banged his head. (This happened many more times than once.)
And at the end of the day, I just want to run to the basement and hide, because I haven’t felt good all day long, but mothers barely have time to rest when they have busy babies who are constantly toppling onto their heads.
I’m kind of at my wits end.
And I feel terribly alone, like I’m just on my own with this one.
To top it off, I’m the lady who gets desperately passionate about issues I care about, issues that matter, and writes daring blog posts my husband kindly cautions me against posting. At least for the moment. (I’m rash and he knows it.)
There are all these people out there who say they are my friends, it is almost utterly ridiculous how many people claim an acquaintance with me, and yet when it comes to being known? I don’t really want to answer that question.
Because the truth is, a lot of the time, I feel alone, not known.
Even when I’m with people.
Well then, there’s the whole story of me not having kids and all that doctoring I do to stay on top of my seriously out-of-wack hormones and people don’t get that either.
“You mean, there’s not a cure?”
And sometimes when I try to explain what I’m going through I get the feeling really quick that they have no idea what to say, so the conversation quickly moves on and I feel –
I’ve been around long enough to know you have your stories too. All the ways you feel left-out, forgotten, overlooked, frustrated, and totally alone.
“The fact of the matter”, as the gray-haired preacher in my church likes to say, the fact of the matter is that our symptoms are what’s different. We’re really all facing the same thing. I wish there was a formula. Like “Ten Ways to Heal Aloneness”.
There’s this song. I’ve heard it many times, sung different ways.
In Christ alone, my hope is found.
Maybe you know it too?
Even when I’m alone, I’m in Christ.
In Christ alone, and I’m alone in Christ.
It’s the last verse that calls me. Haunts me.
No guilt in life, no fear in death,
This is the power of Christ in me;
From life’s first cry to final breath.
Jesus commands my destiny.
No power of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home,
Here in the power of Christ I’ll stand.
– Stuart Townend
Jesus didn’t bother giving tidy formulas in pretty packages to align our lives by. Instead, He gave us Himself.
And by the power of Christ, in Christ alone, we’ll stand –
sometimes alone, but alone in Christ, in Christ alone.
And this is how we live and move and have our being –