A group of friends sits in an average room, in an average home, in an average city. They’ve been close since college, learning how to be adults together. They got jobs, lost jobs, made plans and broke plans all along the way. They’ve all lived blessed lives: a marriage, a promotion, a house, a child. For years, they have celebrated each other. But eventually one moves away for a new career, one leaves to work over seas, and one is drawn to another community … and one was left alone.
But, to be left is to be human.
A group of friends sits in an average room, in an average home, in an average city. They’ve been close since they moved to the neighborhood 50 years ago. They raised kids, built lives, and threw parties all along the way. They’ve all lived real lives: a job loss, a grandchild, a divorce, a death. For years, they have both celebrated and grieved. But eventually one moves in with their son, one moves into a nursing home, and one doesn’t laugh quite the same way he used to … and one was left alone.
But, to be left is to be human.
A group of friends sits in an average room in an average home in an average city. They’ve been close ever since they met. They fed the hungry, they started political rallies, and formed a grassroots movement. They’ve all witnessed the unbelievable: a blind man see, a lame man walk, and they swear they saw the winds and the waves tamed once. They all have followed Him ever since He called. But eventually one runs away, one commits suicide, and one claims he doesn’t even know Him. He was the one that was left alone.
To be left is to be human.
Whatever the reason for being left, we can only hope to ignore our lonely shadows, laying down in the dark and whimpering “I’m alone…” Try as we might, we can’t help to ignore the gnawing bite of being left, and attempt to sigh it all away. Eventually, our hearts quietly succumb to everything the world says is true —
you’re alone
But that still small voice, a whisper out of the tempest from the Ancient of Days says something new.
No, you’re not
On the night before the greatest event in any story ever told, the Son of the Living God sat in an average room, in an average house, in an average city with a group of His friends. He was there, and He loved them, knowing full well that every one of them was going to leave Him.
To be left is to be human.
But our God knows what it is to be left. This is the only Man, the only God, ever to live, ever to be, who has the right to look you in your tear-filled eyes and make a promise that no one else can.
I will never leave you
Even when we left Him, the fact that we might be saved made the very Word of Life explode in heavenly joy and consume our hearts in the fire of His love.
For this was the joy set before Him
never to leave you
never to forsake you
for He is with you
even to the end of the age.
by Mike Weisman
