My thumb hovers over the ‘send’ button.
It doesn’t feel like it should take this much courage to send a text.
After all, it’s just a last-minute, low-pressure call around to see if anyone’s free for dinner. I’ve found myself with a free evening, and I miss my friends.
I whisper to myself, ‘They’re probably busy’, ‘They haven’t spent much time with their spouse recently’ – a more honest thought: ‘They probably don’t want to see me anyway.’
I delete the text and open up Netflix, pushing down the dull ache of loneliness.
I live by myself. For the most part, I like having my own space. But I can’t help but feel like I am missing out on something vital by not having someone there who sees what happens every day, or someone with whom I can plan menial adventures.
When I was first coming to grips with my sexuality and faith, I thought that being same-sex attracted and unlikely to be married basically meant signing up to be lonely, to living a life on a parallel line to all my friends. It was a risk I was willing to take, knowing the joy of being known and loved by Jesus. So, I strapped myself in for a life of yearning for deeper connection and never being satisfied.
The older I get, the more I realise that loneliness isn't a unique problem for single people.
But the older I get, the more I realise that loneliness isn't a unique problem for single people.
I remember a whispered confession from a friend, fresh back from her honeymoon, ‘Why is no one checking in on me? So many people are saying they need to give me space to “settle in to marriage”. But I’ve just spent 14 days, 24 hours a day with this man. I need to process so much – like I find the way he breathes while sleeping annoying – but everyone is backing off.’
Or the young parent who, after the 3 weeks of casseroles lovingly prepared and dropped off post-partum, suddenly finds themself alone in their apartment all day while their partner is at work – and their only company is a baby, who they adore, but who can’t give them the meaningful adult company they crave.
In my home country, Australia, one in four people over the age of 15 reported feeling lonely in 2022, the highest it’s been in 20 years.1 Over in the US, the Surgeon-General’s office found in 2023 that the amount of time American Citizens spend in isolation has increased by 24 hours a month.2
And even when we do gather with people, we get ourselves caught up in what Paul Tripp helpfully describes as ‘endless networks of terminally casual relationships’ where conversations suspend themselves at a stubbornly surface level.3 We struggle to find spaces where we can really be ourselves, in all our mess and struggle.
The reality is that loneliness feels like a staple in our modern world. We all seem to be living our lives in parallel lines.
I’m beginning to wonder if my loneliness might be an invitation to view the world differently.
But we weren’t made to live like that, we were meant to be gloriously tangled up. We were made for community where we bear each other’s burdens (Galatians 6:2), not where we hide them. A community so safe we dare to whisper the darkest sins of our heart (James 5:16), where we help each other grow into who God is making us to be (Hebrews 10:24.)
So I’m beginning to wonder if my loneliness might be an invitation to view the world differently: full of people who are as hungry for deep connection as I am. Even though it may not seem like it, it takes vulnerability to send that text – to be ready for people to say ‘No’ – but I’m always surprised that there is almost always someone who responds saying, ‘Yes please! I was just thinking it would be great to get out of the house!’. But I’m also delightfully surprised by my friends who say, ‘Argh, we’re out tonight but coffee tomorrow?’.
And so, take the courage to push through the awkward moment and ask those friends around for dinner, let someone in on the parts you’d rather keep hidden, dare to whisper the darkest sins of your heart, make space for others to do the same.
- ‘Social Connections’, Australian Bereau of Statistics. Accessed 26 June 2025.
- ‘Our Epidemic of Loneliness and Isolation’, Office of the U.S. Surgeon General. Accessed 26 June 2025.
- Paul Tripp, 'Who Knows What You Are Going Through?', Paul Tripp. Accessed 26 June 2025.
