Last Saturday I went to Glasgow for a wedding. It’s a three-hour drive so a group of us stayed overnight.
Don was away on business, so I went alone. That is, friends took me in their car and brought me home again. I joined together with many others from Banchory for taxi rides and dinner and sitting together during the wedding itself.
And yet, somehow, I felt so alone. I just so missed Don, even more than I’d anticipated.
I was surprised to find I felt just as insecure as I did during my university days, when, staying in the halls of residence, I used to dread going down to meals. I hated entering a large cafeteria alone, scanning the tables for a familiar face.
I had the same feeling when going to breakfast on Sunday. God knew I was anxious; I’d asked for his help. Why was I surprised, then, to find dear friends right in front of me when I arrived at the restaurant, who I could join for breakfast?
I find it amazing that God works things out so silently sometimes. It wasn’t as if he’d told me when to head out of my room for the lift. I heard no voice saying, ‘Go now and you just might catch a friend on her way in.’
And yet, I know that God arranged it so that I did indeed meet friends on their way in. I just love God for his tender understanding of my silly fears.
After this weekend, I feel much more aware of what it’s like for those who have been widowed, and for those who are single, and for those whose partners work away from home, to go into joyful celebrations, alone.
I hope I will make a bigger effort in future to include them in whatever I am doing.
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