All Alone in a Sea of People

Photo by Kyle Sudu

For 7 years, I lived in Atlanta, Georgia, with a population of 416,474 (as per the 2000 census population posted by the Mayor's office.) For the first couple of years, I lived right in the heart of Buckhead, sometimes referred to as the Beverly Hills of the East. We used to say our front door was a revolving one because there were people coming and going all the time. Late-night bar-closers would stumble in at 8 a.m. for a beer and pregame bantering until the bars and restaurants could legally sell booze again around 12:30 in the afternoon. 

Our very non-traditional Sunday mornings would involve the early service at one of the most prestigious churches in Buckhead where the pastor told humorous stories about his weekend adventures including one account of the Willie Nelson concert, he attended the night before. Then, we would walk to the trendy eatery around the corner from our house. Finally, after splitting a $12 burger and paying a tab which was usually around $150 due mostly in part to more adult beverages, we were off to our favorite neighborhood sports bar where "everybody knows your name." Ironically, no one knew us at all, not really anyway. 

So, there I was right in the middle of the action and I was painfully out of place much like a size 10 foot in a size 6 shoe. People liked me well enough, I guess, but I never really fit. My husband, a chef by trade, made sure there was always plenty of delicious food and a ridiculous amount of alcohol. This was the perfect recipe for plenty of takers, but very few givers. 

For the last 3 years that I lived in Atlanta, I worked downtown for a company of approximately 300 people. The actual office I worked in was not that large. We were like a family or at least a tight group of friends in the beginning, but the honeymoon ended, and the truth began to present itself. Again, I was generally liked, but I had only one true friend. I miss her still. 

The point in revealing these embarrassing details of a former life is to tell you that you are not alone. I lived a life of being in a room full of people or a city of over 400,000 people, hosting parties, laughing and telling jokes, and felt as if I was the only person on the planet. For me, it was because there was something more inside. Something deeper. Perhaps this is you, too. 

Looking back, I see God's mercy in not fitting in. When the time came, it would have been too hard to leave, too hard to give up, and the excessive, self-destructive lifestyle surely would have killed me. Thankfully, I had a family who prayed fervently and unrelentingly. I had pastors who literally warred for me in the Spirit for years before I would ever join their congregation. I did lose "friends" along the way. People, some family, who no longer email, or call, but that is fine with me. Loneliness in a deep sea of people made me hunger for more and I was ready for what God had in store. Higher heights and deeper depths. I was set apart by God even from an early age to live a life much larger in His kingdom and so are you!

II Corinthians 6:14,15 "Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers...how can light have fellowship with darkness...Or what has a believer in common with an unbeliever?"