I have been reading a memoir called Will the Circle Be Unbroken by Sean Dietrich. It is a beautiful book and one that I highly recommend. Without giving too much away, I want to share a part I read this morning.

Sean’s friend Dewey asked him to join him on a road trip. It was a trip he had been too afraid to take because it meant facing a painful part of his past. In fact, twice before he had started out on this journey, and both times he had “chickened out” before he got there. Dewey vulnerably shared that he wouldn’t be able to go if Sean wouldn’t come with him.

Sean told Dewey no; he couldn’t go. Life was just too busy. He was in the middle of trying to put himself through college while working overtime to pay for it. It had taken him 11 years to finish (read the book to find out why), he was almost there, and he couldn’t risk going away that weekend. And part of his resistance was that Dewey’s painful trip reminded him of some of his own pain.

He told Dewey he would have to go alone. That he would be ok. He could do it. Dewey nodded and said he understood.  

The next morning, Dewey answered an early morning knock on the door and saw Sean standing there, holding a duffle bag. Against all better judgement Sean looked his friend in the eye and said, “Let’s go”.

He showed up to help Dewey walk through something he couldn’t do on his own.

I may have cried when I read this part.

I don’t know, but I think we all want a friend who will come and find us, look us in the eye and say, “I'm here. I will go with you,” when we need it the most.

Does life get any more beautiful than that?

I heard a podcast the other day where author Curt Thompson talked about how anxious we can all feel during this quarantine time. This time of uncertainty can create anxiety while also revealing other anxieties that we already carry. He explained that in some ways this virus represents our greatest fears about death, about dying and about being alone.

Thompson does a great job explaining just what happens in our brains when we experience anxiety. Often when we are suffering, our brain convinces us that we are alone which in turn causes our heart rate to increase, our breathing to quicken and the stress hormone cortisol to be produced. Thompson points out that in small doses, cortisol is helpful and works for our survival, but long term, it turns on us and “poisons our brain.”

So what do we do with that? We are all so isolated from each other right now. One of the hardest parts of this pandemic is the loss of connection with other people. I can’t show up on a friends’s doorstep to remind them that I am with them. And they can’t show up on mine. And there is a lot of alone time where our minds might spend a little too much time reminding us more of our fears instead of our hope.

We need to hear each other’s voices. As Thompson explains, “My brain is programmed not just for connection, but an important part of that connection is the anticipatory circuits that are longing for someone to come and find me.” We need each other, not just to tell us it is ok, but to have the freedom to say when we are scared or worried or afraid and then to remind each other that we are not alone.

When my daughter McKenzie was 10, she got her ears pierced. Somehow, in spite of the daily cleaning and twisting, something strange happened and her right ear basically swallowed the earring. Odd, I know, but that tiny little post was embedded in the hole of her ear and we couldn’t get it out. I tried everything and the longer it was in there, the more upset McKenzie became. We finally had to go to the doctor to get some help. McKenzie sat on the exam table with the crinkly white paper and tried not to cry as the doctor explained to her how she was going to remove the earring. And then she said, “I want you to look at your mom and don’t take your eyes off of her.” So with big tears she looked at me. I held her hand and as we looked at each other I said, ‘It’s ok. It’s going to be ok. I’m right here.” As the doctor was digging and the pain got worse, she started to look away from me, towards her pain. I squeezed her hand and said, “Look at me. It’s ok.” That little earring finally came out, and we all breathed a sigh of relief.

Yes, life can feel a lot harder than a little earring stuck in our ear, but it is a good reminder, isn’t it? A reminder that no matter the pain, it helps to have someone look us in the eye and say, “It’s ok. I am here. I am with you. Look at me.”

I know face-time and zoom aren’t the same as the real face to face, but we can still walk with each other in our fears. We can stand in the street near our neighbor and ask how they are doing and if they need anything. We can call a friend who is struggling, tell them we are thinking about them and listen as they process through their fears and pain and tell them it is ok that they are feeling all of it.

And we can remind each other that even if we believe we are alone, we aren’t alone.  

He will always show up. He will find us. We are not alone.

Joshua 1:9 “Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”

Isaiah 41:10 “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

Deuteronomy 31:8 

“The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”

I believe that even when we think we are alone, the Lord is standing there with a duffle bag reminding us He is not only ready to walk to those painful places with us but will lead and carry us along the way. Let’s hold on to that truth together and encourage each other with these words. May we keep our eyes on Him together.

I keep my eyes always on the Lord.

With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Psalm 16:8