loneliness

She walked over, sat down, and said "I am so lonely" without even thinking about how desperate she sounded. And there is an awkwardness about this, isn't there? When someone is so open about the pain that they feel. And what is it about being lonely that can feel so...shameful...so embarrassing...so ...so painfully awful?

Loneliness feels like hunger.

A thirst you can not quench.

And you know what I think?

I think that so many women are lonely.

I really do.

In our marriages.

In our single-ness.

In our families.

In our communities.

In our churches.

We are lonely.

I only think this, because I have been this, and now I see it.

Don't let this "connected world" fool you.

We have never been more disconnected.

Relationships are superficial.

Communication is electronic.

Our hearts are dying for real connection, authentic friendship.

We feel alone and we search for purpose and we wonder if we will always feel this way.

We talked about this idea of loneliness over really good eggs and coffee.

And yet, we acknowledged that it was this loneliness that lead us to each other...to this moment, over omelettes and gluten free toast and a side of avocado. How can something so bad lead to something so good? Because this friendship of mine? It is so good.

And that right there is the beauty in suffering.

When your misery becomes your ministry.

When your brokenness is not so much a handicap, but an opening to allow healing in.

And when I kneeled before the Blessed Sacrament last night, it did not escape me for a moment, that this moment, surrounded by dear Sisters In Christ, would never had happened, if I were not once lonely.

And when Jesus was placed before me, it was so incredibly clear that what I had been lonely for all along, was Him.