Divine Loneliness: An Excerpt from my Journal

I read my journals after I finish writing on their last pages before putting them away. This journal was particularly heavyhearted. It spans the beginning of a grief process to a hospitalization. This entry was written in the throes of an existentialist faith crisis that I’m still wading through. Needless to say, it’s dark. Though dark, it speaks to something that I’m finding to be true about how I experience God and the world. It’s not polished.  It is the stream of consciousness brought out through journaling. I’ve done little to change the format so it reads as strangely as it spilled from my head to the page. I hope it sparks something in you, dear reader, whatever that something is. Here we go:

We are all alone, regardless of whether we feel it or not. Maybe that’s the image of God in which we were created. Profoundly lonely to the point of needing to create to in order to lessen the sting. Creation brings connection to something for a little while. The connection dissipates, so we create again. We keep creating in the hope that we will finally be cured of loneliness, but we won’t be. Loneliness is God– our divine center hidden in the dark places we so try to ignore. Maybe that’s why religion fascinates me. It’s a ritual moment of connecting with that loneliness. We dig deep into it, hoping to reveal more of God’s face the further into it we delve. In connecting with God, we connect to each other, acutely aware of the sacred loneliness at the core of human existence. Those moments glow with a brilliance that illuminates our collective darkness. We still cannot see God, but we see more of each other. We revel in those moments, calling them “holy” or “miraculous”. It’s no wonder that many of the miracle stories need touch. They need connection. Yet, so many of us are alone in our loneliness. Those of us who are aware of it suffer in it, longing to revel in the loneliness of another…


The rest of it gets to be more personal than I’m willing to share on the internet. If you have thoughts about it, I’d love to hear from you. If you have a story to share about your own experience of loneliness or divine loneliness, let’s talk. You can reach me through the contact page.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s