Far removed from anything familiar or comfortable, no friends or family to be our community, stuck in the middle of a big city playing the daily role of mom and teacher, I met Jesus at the bottom of my loneliness. He was there in my stillness, in my quiet, and there in my fear of being forgotten, holding my hand as a steady companion. I’ve known Jesus as my Savior, Redeemer, and Grace-giver for nearly two decades. He was there with me as a tender Father in the darkness of my first born’s bedroom as I rocked her back to sleep for the fifth time. He was there as my Healer as I wept over the loss of pregnancies, and now He’s the Friend I needed most reminding me that my ultimate place of belonging is in His kingdom and presence.
Motherhood has its moments of isolation and loneliness even under the best circumstances. I remember lonely midnight feedings with babies and feeling isolated on long, dark winter evenings with stir-crazy kids and a husband working out of town. Over the past year, I’ve had moments of fear wondering if all this uprooting and sacrificing for our family will leave me alone and forgotten at the bottom of my well, too far down to reach out to anyone and ever regain a sense of belonging. Occupied by these fears, I nearly failed to discover the treasure waiting for me in my well.
Jesus was already there. I didn’t have to reach far or climb high to find His outstretched hands waiting for me. He, my greatest treasure, was right there all along. Jesus transforms my loneliness into opportunities for deeper relationship with Him. I’ve found a friendship in Jesus I hadn’t known before this season. It turns out the bottom of my well wasn’t a scary or forgotten place after all. It was a distraction-free meeting ground where God captured my full, undivided attention. The same is true no matter what season of life and mothering we’re in. Jesus is already there. He’s in our deepest, darkest places speaking loving words of belonging in a family rooted in eternity, giving us the freedom to go anywhere in this world with the assurance that we’re truly never alone.
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This article originally appeared at Kindred Mom.
