Dear friend,
He lay down and slept under a juniper tree; and behold, an angel touched him, and said to him, “Arise and eat!” He looked, and behold, there was at his head a cake baked on the coals, and a jar of water. He ate and drank, and lay down again. The LORD’s angel came again the second time, and touched him, and said, “Arise and eat, because the journey is too great for you.” He arose, and ate and drank, and went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb, God’s Mountain.
I ate dinner standing over the sink last week. Just didn't feel like setting a table for one person. My husband was traveling, my daughter was at her grandmother's, and the apartment got so quiet I turned on a podcast just to hear a voice that wasn't mine. That's not tragic. It's just true, and I don't say it enough out loud.
I keep thinking about how loneliness shows up not just in the big empty rooms but in a crowded one too. Elijah under the broom tree comes to mind. He wasn't alone, technically. He'd just outrun everyone who might have understood him. 1 Kings 19 has God sending an angel to feed him twice before a single word about his crisis gets addressed. Food first. Rest first. The conversation came after.
I don't think you're meant to explain your way out of feeling this before anyone tends to it. Sometimes the tending comes first and the understanding comes slower, maybe never all the way. What's one small thing your body needs tonight, before we even get to the rest of it?
A prayer
God, the quiet feels heavier than it should tonight. Before she has words for it, meet the plain, physical parts of her loneliness. Feed her the way You fed Elijah. Amen.