Loneliness Hurts

A few days ago I saw an interview with a man who had been behind bars over 2o years, falsely accused of a crime he didn’t commit. Eleven of those years he spent on death row, 22 hours a day in solitary confinement. He was deprived of watching his children grow up; his sons are like strangers to him. Now, when he has finally been exonerated, he has to rebuild his life. Such an unfair situation!

Loneliness hurts. I experienced it very vividly this weekend. I had been looking forward to go to church; I was even going to visit an Hispanic congregation. But my feet rebelled and because of nerve damage I could hardly walk on them. So I had to spend another lonely day with Soledad, that has been my very faithful companion this winter. I know I have introduced her in another blog, but for charities sake I’ll repeat myself. Soledad is a Spanish name that means Loneliness, so it makes sense to joke about her spending the winter with me. But it’s really not a joke. Soledad has made herself very much at home with me.

Come on a tour and see our little abode!

Welcome! It’s been raining, so Soledad and I would appreciate if you left your shoes at the door. That will make a little less cleaning for us.

Have a seat! The book for the real estate agents is on the table. That way, when they bring someone to look at the house, they’ll know the details. Let me give you a close-up of the picture over the sofa.

This beautiful painting with a jungle scene from Peru was a wedding present from one of the families that had their children in our Sunday school. It has had a prominent place through the years.

Here is where Soledad and I have our meals. Not really, it’s just me. She lives off air, I think. In Sweden they have a saying when you’re in love, that you live off  “air and love.”  I’m the one that does the eating!

And this is where I cook!

Of course, before I hit the stove I have to do some chopping and here is where I do that. The least enjoyable part is the “aftermath.” That used to be Bengt’s part. I cooked and he loaded the dishwasher.

I don’t like how messy this part of the house looks, but it is the most productive area. All the blogging is done with me sitting in that chair. It’s funny! Soledad must not like my office because she hardly ever shows up there.

These are my treasures. Photo albums, dictionaries, books and materials for leader training, Bibles, and copies of all the books I’ve translated. The little dresser to the right, with colorful drawers, is a replica of a dresser my dad made for me when I was a kid. He built this one, too, a few years ago. I wanted something to remind me of my childhood in Peru.

This is the room Soledad likes best. Maybe it’s because she also misses Bengt. This is the place where he was called home to Heaven. Yesterday she gripped my heart so hard I thought it was going to break. Then I thought of the man who had spent so many lonely days in prison and of my brothers and sisters in Christ that are incarcerated because of their faith. But it didn’t help. Soledad held her grip!

This room makes me happy. When it’s filled with little kid’s laughter Soledad has to flee. She must go visit the neighbors or something because I don’t see her around when my daughter and her family visit.

I feel better now. This little tour did me good. And I’ve finally come up with a way to finish off a tedious job I have been assigned. My supervisor says it’s punishment because I’m leaving them. I guess it will be my last labor of love. I’m inputting in a data base all the descriptions for the Spanish materials we publish. The number of articles is in the hundreds! Then I’ll have to set it up to make a catalog. Soledad better keep her hands off that data base!

Today I’ve been encouraging myself with a promise from the final words in Psalm 29: “God makes his people strong. God gives his people peace.” I’m reading The Message this year. With God’s help Soledad and I will make it just fine.