Loneliness is within her. Wherever she goes, it follows.
She lays in bed too long on Saturday morning. She gets ready and steps outside, breathing in the icy air, watching the bright sun blind the city. She warms her insides with the city’s best coffee, and spends the last of her “leisure” cash on a syrupy pancake breakfast that’s too much to finish on her own. She walks for hours, taking pictures of anything she finds interesting because it passes the time. She smiles at every stranger who passes her way, wondering if they’re lonely too. She sits on a bus for its whole route and reads from a Book.
She shops for groceries on her own and pretends it’s a performance of how best to look “okay.” She cooks and eats whatever she wants, because it’s dinner for one, again. She throws her socks across the room because there’s no one to object. She wraps in multiple blankets when there’s no one to hold her. She spends the night sitting on the balcony watching the stars, wondering…
Sunday morning she greets the church and feels the best she’s felt all week. The loneliness seems smaller. She remembers Who’s with her. She knows this is temporary. She knows it’s a season.
Peace is within her. Wherever she goes, it follows.
He’s the hope she carries in each step. He’s with her on Saturday morning, in that quiet, undisturbed space, listening to her thoughts. His evidence is in the winter air and blinding sun. He’s the cozy feeling of comfort she gets when she drinks her coffee. He walks with her and smiles at her through strangers’ eyes. He speaks to her through the words of the Book she reads on the bus. He sees through her performance as she attempts to look “okay,” and knows the longing within her. He doesn’t mind what she cooks or how many socks she throws across the room. Unlike the blankets, He holds her all the time. He looks down from his garden of stars and sees exactly where she fits in His plan. And on Sunday, He reminds her she’s not alone.
The Spirit is within her. Wherever He goes, she follows.