This week has been like any normal week. Today was like any other normal day — a day filled with meetings, projects, and emails. Until I got home. I walked into an empty, quiet house. Even the dog seemed to recognize that something was “off.” My wife left for a week-long trip to her hometown to visit family yesterday. My girls are at church for a three-day youth conference. I was home alone. For the first time in a very long time, I had this overwhelming sense of loneliness. Yes, loneliness. It has been so long since I felt this way, and that feeling itself felt rather foreign.

As I was sitting in the quietness of our living room, I was tempted to turn on the television to fill the room with some noise, but I just sat there. I realized that the next few days would be like this. I would come home to an empty house, and I would have to decide what to fix myself for dinner. Would I watch television? Or a movie? Or read a book . . . alone. Make a sandwich, grill chicken, or order pizza . . . alone.

While I am feeling this way tonight . . .  this feeling . . . this reality is temporary. On Saturday, my girls will be back here in the house filling it with the sounds of teenage life. Next Tuesday night we’ll pick Charlene up from the Denver airport. All will return to normal. But in the meantime, I feel alone. And I feel lonely. I was taken back . . . surprised . . . even shocked that I experienced this emotion. Quite honestly, I was looking forward to this time . . . this time to do whatever I wanted (or didn’t want) to do. Yet instead I am feeling this sense of emptiness.

After soaking in those feelings for the last few hours, I’ve begun to think about people who find this to be their everyday reality. This is their reality not for a few days. This is their ongoing reality. I am reminded of my mom. She has lived the last several years alone without my dad. Tonight I can empathize a little more with the way she feels. I am reminded of the story of a pastor in Indianapolis who tragically lost his wife this last year. He and his young toddler are alone. The stories are numerous around us, but we go on with our “normal” lives. Our reality filled with family . . . and togetherness . . .  and community. Yet there are those that go home to an empty home and are reminded by this emotion of loneliness every single day that they are alone

Today I am a little more aware of those around me that may be living this way. This is the beauty of the Church. We have the  opportunity to open our eyes to see those around us that may be experiencing aloneness alongside the emotion of loneliness. I am thankful for my family and that I’m not alone. Yet tonight, I’m also thankful for the reminder that there are those that are lonely and need the love of a neighbor and to be reminded that they are not alone.