Day 39

For the past day and a half I’ve felt heavy. But I couldn’t find words for what it was. It could’ve been a number of things—grief, perhaps, over the childhood memory I’d processed the day before; sorrow over Aaron, or even indignation; not knowing how to respond to a roommate. But tonight, standing in worship at the International House of Prayer, I found a word to describe it.

Loneliness.

The message tonight was on confessing the truth and resisting lies. Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering…He is faithful (Hebrews 10:23). The truth needs to get into my mouth to be fully activated. For with the heart one believes unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation [complete deliverance]. (Romans 10:10) My confession is what I say to the indwelling Spirit about who I am in Christ. So I stood there confessing truth, not wanting to sit in whatever oppression I felt, and one phrase kept coming out of my mouth over and over again.

I am not alone. I am not alone. I am not alone.

Which meant that I felt alone. Maybe that should seem obvious for to a recently un-engaged woman to feel, but somehow it wasn’t. I live in a home with ten other women. It would seem there isn’t time or space to feel alone. Yet this newfound hole in my heart is of a different shape than the friendships I have with these women. It’s the ache to have one person who will consistently drop everything and be there if I need it because I’m his priority. It’s companionship and partnership, the feeling of not having to do everything on my own. It’s having someone who understands the little daily things and wants to hear about my day at night. It’s someone to dream together with about what life and ministry may look like with the commitment of knowing they will actually be there when the dream materializes. It's envisioning your life with someone else and then finding yourself left alone to sort out which pieces of that vision are yours to keep and which are to be laid down. Back to the drawing board.

It’s a blow to my pride, in a way, to admit that I’m lonely. Pre-Aaron, loneliness wasn’t something I focused on. I liked to think I was above that—secure without a man. But here it is, staring me in the face. Awakened desires left unresolved. The lies can come so easily. And the moment I believe them my spirit is constrained. So here are the truths I confessed tonight, the ones I have to fight for. Proclaim to believe.

I am not alone. I am not alone. I am not alone.

I have not been robbed.

I have been given an unfathomable inheritance.

I am BELOVED.

I am worth the death and life of Y’shua.

I have succeeded. God is proud of me.

I bring the Lord pleasure.

I have access to joy.

I am enveloped in Y’shua’s kindness, goodness, & tenderness.

Y’shua has dealt bountifully with me.

I am fully righteous.

I am not alone. I have divine partnership with the Father, Y’shua, & the Holy Spirit.
I belong.