I sit alone in the back of a crowded room. It seems so weird that I feel so alone in a place with so many people. All around me are people hugging, rejoicing, making introductions, and even dancing. Everyone seems to know everyone – everyone except me.
Loneliness is not a feeling I am familiar with. For as long as I can remember, I have been among friends. Even as a child, I knew I was important. I was just born into one of those families: everyone knew who I was, and the older I got, the more people cared about my opinions. Such a strange contrast to the situation I find myself in now.
Some may say this is my own fault; I had every right to invite as many people as I wanted to. I didn’t take advantage of that right. I knew that I wanted to come here, but I was sort of embarrassed by that fact. I can’t believe how petty I was.
The person who invited me here wasn’t embarrassed. I barely knew her, but it was obvious she was excited about this place. She hasn’t arrived yet, but I doubt she’ll remember me when she does. She invited so many people here, why would she remember one individual?
I get some very odd looks as I sit here. No one seems to recognize me; the exact opposite of the way things were back at home. The looks from others are not mean or disapproving – they are more like looks of pity. They must realize how shy and scared I am feeling, and yet they make no effort to speak to me. Will I always feel so alone? What happened to the place of peace and rejoicing I was promised?
And then He enters. I am instantly struck with awe. As he opens my eyes to the wonderful beauties around me, I am filled with shame. I do not deserve to be here. Time and time again I have failed Him. Why didn’t I invite others to join me here? People would have listened to me. I was blessed with the ability to be heard, and yet I wasted it. And still He loves me. Despite everything, he has given me grace.
