[New post] Parking Lot Blues, A Short Cheating Man, and Apple Crisp: How To Deal With Loneliness
Sue Donaldson posted: "I had the parking lot blues. I'm glad Jesus knew my name. One Sunday after church, I stood by my car and looked around me. Folks and friends called "So long" and "Have a great afternoon!" and some caught my eye with a wave and a smile. Families busy gett" welcomeheart.com
I had the parking lot blues. I'm glad Jesus knew my name.
One Sunday after church, I stood by my car and looked around me. Folks and friends called "So long" and "Have a great afternoon!" and some caught my eye with a wave and a smile. Families busy getting their tired kids buckled in didn't give me a second thought; They were happy in the knowledge they would to be home soon, the kids fed and put down for a nap. And maybe they could catch one too.
I knew my church people needed to get out and get home, but that day I paused and I thought, "Why didn't someone invite me home for Sunday dinner?" That's what we called it growing up. Sunday dinner was lunchtime and Sunday Supper was around 6. Lunch or dinner, I would have loved an invitation.
If Mom were here, I mused, she would have asked me.
Mom's hospitality radar, in good working order on most days, placed itself on high alert each Sunday morning. Church was for worship, sure. Teaching and praise, you bet. But for Betty Moore, Sundays were for inviting the new family, the single person, the grieving widow, the odd man out (and we had some odd men), the best friends and the newcomers. She cooked on Saturday and prepped on Sunday morning with certainty and anticipation: There will be company around our table. The only question will be who and how many? And, do we need one or two extra leaves for the table?
It's how we were raised. Sunday included an invitation, either one given or one received. And I hadn't received any.
Single in my 20's, in a new career, a new town and a new church, I felt okay mostly. Life was full and purposeful, but lonely on occasion. I wondered why families wouldn't ask me over for Sunday dinner.
All I could think of was that those friends at church must have thought I had such an exciting single life that I wouldn't want to come home to their normal, ordinary home and stand at the sink and peel potatoes or hold their babies while they got dinner on and then sit down at their table to get better acquainted.
But that was exactly what I wanted to do. To be part of a family, if just for an hour or two.
The Bible says God sets the lonely in families. I was lonely. I needed to be set somewhere.
I GOT TIRED OF WAITING
Finally, I called a bunch of ladies and said, "Can you come for brunch on Saturday?" Ladies and brunch seem to go together; less fuss and easier for my schedule. Working fulltime, I couldn't do it weeknights and I didn't have a lot of money. These ladies may have been surprised when they got the invitation. Looking back, I'm guessing they probably had a big To-Do list for their Saturday mornings, but they came anyway. They may also have been surprised I could cook. I'm not sure I could cook but I could read.
They must have liked it because they came more than once—perhaps because they didn't have to do the cooking or maybe they just liked leaving their Saturday To-Do list behind for a bit longer. Maybe they just liked being together. Or, maybe they just liked me. I was lonely. I needed to feel like family so I gathered some families around and they took me in.
I invited people over because I needed friends. Sometimes you just have to make it happen and not wait for someone else to pick up the phone or send a text. I don't think people thought I might be bad company or that I might steal the silverware if they had me over for dinner. I just think they didn't think of me at all.
Maybe that's what loneliness is: to feel like you are never thought about.
No one thought about a short guy named Zacchaeus. He needed friends but no one invited him for dinner or Saturday brunch. They knew better.
Mom may have even hesitated and no one would blame her.
ONE SHORT MAN WHO SHORTED OTHERS
Zacchaeus was a cheat and a tax collector. Taxes are part of life but to have to pay more than you're due all because of a cheating, short tax collector was more than most could tolerate. Zacchaeus didn't get many invitations to dinner. After all, he might take home the good silver as taxes paid as well as eat all the dessert. Who wants a short, cheating tax collector as a guest? No one.
I'm guessing Zacchaeus was used to it, being alone and all, and richer than his neighbors. People use money as a replacement for most things even though they find out eventually, if they're lucky, that it causes more headaches than it's worth and it's not worth losing friends and family over. But when Zacchaeus heard that Jesus was in town, he wanted to see what all the commotion was about. Maybe he thought he could make some money off Jesus too. Always thinking, and not a dollar short.
One problem though: he couldn't see Jesus through the crowds. It would have been nice to have a few friends who might make room or to give a lift up on their shoulders. No one offered. Not surprised, he ran ahead, found a sycamore tree and climbed on up where no one could notice he was on his own.
There's a shame connected with loneliness. It's one thing to be alone and be so happy that you are. It's another thing to wish you weren't alone and to hope no one would notice.
Someone noticed. Jesus stopped under that tree, looked up and talked straight to this short swindler. He even called him by name. Here it was that after all, someone was thinking about Zacchaeus.
You can be hiding in plain sight, pretending all's well, hoping that no one notices that you're alone, again. There's shame to think that no one has texted or called or wanted to be with us when everyone else has someone else. We try to look fine without being at all fine. So it's best to stay out of the way, maybe climb a tree, and not worry that no one knows how we really feel.
The thing is, God knows. He knows my heart, my shame, my name and he stops right next to me to let me know. I just need to be looking for him.
"Zacchaeus," Jesus said. "Quick, come down!" Best part: Jesus invites himself for dinner. "I must be a guest in your home today." Jesus didn't wait around to be asked. Sometimes you can't wait around when important things need to happen.
Zacchaeus changed on the spot. Maybe because it was Jesus who noticed him and said his name. And then invited himself over for dinner. He promised to give half his money to the poor and no more cheating or he'd give four times over. All it took was a look from Jesus. He had that effect on people. This is better than the average result of a dinner invitation. Though some religious types got mad that Jesus ate with a cheating tax collector, I imagine Zacchaeus got more invitations after that.
APPLE CRISP—A DELIGHTFUL ALTERNATIVE TO CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES
I sure did. By the time I left that area, I had seven women older and wiser than myself who loved me and poured their lives into mine. I might call and say, "Want to meet for lunch? I need some advice and lunch out." And they would meet me and pay the bill, too.
Jesus noticed me through Mrs. Kienel, Jan Mustin, Jeannette Gray, Geneva Brown, Trish Larsen, and others. When God led me to the mission field, the hardest part about leaving was leaving my friendships. I had to start the brunch thing all over again when I got to Brazil.
Four years later, I walked into my new apartment and met Joan, a Bible translator from England. She was short too, and a little direct, like Jesus, and everyone loved her. It didn't take me long to love her too. She said, "Sue you will only be here for two years. Quick! You need to make friends in a hurry." I asked if I could unpack first.
She said, "You need to invite people over—like on Friday."
She made the guest lists. We sent out invitations, both to singles and families—a different list each week—for the next six weeks. I served apple crisp and vanilla ice cream each time. I became an expert on apple crisp—there were no chocolate chips in Brazil in those days.
I had people over because I was desperate for friends. I made friends because I needed to. I call that sanctified self-serving: Doing something good that benefits me as well.
We all need to connect with others. It's no secret that we do, but when we are lonely, we keep it a secret.
We feel shame with loneliness and we know where shame comes from. Shame comes from the pit and we are not pit people.
Sometimes you just have to make it happen and not wait for someone else to pick up the phone or send an email.
If you are feeling lonely at times, you are not alone. Make that call. I'll give you my recipe for apple crisp. It's a killer—for loneliness.
Apple Crisp
Recipe Type: American as Apple Pie but easier
Cuisine: Dessert, Tea, Coffee
Author: Trish Larsen
Prep time:
Cook time:
Total time:
Serves: 4-6
You could serve for breakfast or brunch a'la apple danish!
Ingredients
5 large apples
1 t. cinnamon
1/4 t. nutmeg
1 t. lemon juice
1/2 c water
Topping:
1 c sugar
3/4 c flour
1/2 c butter
Instructions
Peel and slice apples
Mix in spices, lemon juice and water
Lay in 7 x 11" dish
MIx flour and sugar together
Crumble in chilled butter slices until it resembles small peas (as an alternative, spread flour/sugar mixture on top of apples. Melt butter and pour evenly over the top.
No comments:
Post a Comment