Just Keep Breathing

"How many times have you heard me cry out, 'God, please take this'?
How many times have you given me strength to just keep breathing?
Oh I need you.
God I need you now." (Plumb)

The past 7 years have been the loneliest of my life (except for a brief respite in 2009-10), and there have been many moments when I felt like all I could do was cry out to God and hope to "just keep breathing." How many years can one sustain such a basic hope, though? "Just breathing" is not how life is meant to be lived. I feel like I've reached the end of what I can handle.

I'm not intentionally isolating myself or my family, though home-schooling naturally keeps us more insulated than most. I'm part of an informal 'support group' and a more formal 'co-op,' but no relationships have developed from either of those. I'd hoped that neighbors would be a natural source of friendship, but even 5 months after living in our new home, I hardly know any names. And the worst thing is that we are back to having no church home.

We lived our first 8 months in Washington, D.C. with no church and that was truly the loneliest I've been in 7 years. To be brand new in a huge place and have no neighbor friends and no church friends is almost unbearable. We finally did settle on a church and attended it for 12 months, but as of July 1, we've been looking for a new church.

Most of the time, this loneliness has settled in the pit of my stomach, in the depth of my brain, crouching like a hidden dragon. I've ignored it, on the surface pretending that I'm hardy, that I don't need close friends. My husband has tried to encourage me, reminding me of all the good friends I "still have" from my past. These are friends who were close at one time, but they don't call or visit or write. I don't know how that's supposed to encourage me: absent friends aren't the friends I need right now.

The other day, though, I received a phone call from someone I'd known at Wheaton College, been in touch with over the years, and had re-connected with since moving to D.C. This person needed to talk about a heart-breaking situation they're in the middle of, and I listened and chatted for over 2 hours. It happened on a day when I was hard-hit with a bad cold and was desperate for a nap, and my husband later asked, "Why on earth did you talk so long instead of just saying you needed to sleep?"

It hit me hard: I could count on one hand the number of talks I've had with friends in the past couple months, and my heart *needed* that conversation. Even though I was mostly listening (and I still have a heart full of burdens I'd love to share with someone else who can listen to me), I was still interacting with another adult who was actually appreciative of my presence. Such a rare occurrence these days...

I don't know how much longer I can 'just keep breathing.' I know I have my kids who depend on me right now. But I also need to be a friend. I need to talk to friends. And my kids need the same. They are almost as lonely as I am. Without friends, this life seems so purposeless and I don't know how to keep going...