On a frosty winter evening, two college kids, arms linked, skip down the street in anticipation of the night ahead. A few paces behind them, giggles and laughs erupt from another young couple as they amble toward their destination. Tremors of joy and excitement radiate through the air, and the Christmas season appears to be working its acclaimed magical touch.
The unfolding of this scene can bring a warm spot to the heart, but as happens so often in life, we forget to look behind this initial picture. Looking back, there is a girl trailing the four other young people. She is close enough to be a part of the group, yet far enough away to walk by herself. On the outside, she appears to be smiling and ready for the upcoming event. Yet looking into her heart, a different story lies. She loves her friends and wants to be there, but there are times she wonders why she is present, because no matter what, it simply feels like she doesn’t belong.
I tell the story of this young lady because not only have I been in that situation on more than one occasion and can comprehend the experience, but because in reality, there are times when I am her. My whole life I’ve had a knack for invisibility; even earning the nickname “ghost” as a teenager. It was given in fun, defining my ability to unexpectedly materialize or silently vanish from a location unbeknownst to those around me, yet there was a connotation of a deeper implication.
That deeper meaning became apparent when my aptitude for invisibility went beyond a hollow nickname and expanded into the nooks and crannies of life. I realized I could disappear from a group and no one would notice I was gone, or I could just as easily find myself among people who called themselves my friends, yet be completely alone. In many situations to this day, it seems that the moment I take a breathe and pause from initiating interactions, I fade into the background unnoticed, whether I physically remain with the group or not. It’s as if I dawn a cloak of invisibility and can disappear whenever I desire. It’s unnerving to be in the middle of a group, surrounded by “friends,” yet literally be unseen, or to know that I can get lost and no one realize I am missing for the longest time. It’s then that the loneliness creeps in, winding its sticky tendrils through the heart and mind.
It was after a recent encounter with the invisibility cloak and an abrupt altercation involving the perfidious mammoth of loneliness that I was listening to the radio and the words “I’m not strong enough to be everything that I’m suppose to be, I give up, I’m not strong enough” jumped out at me. It was as if the words were an echo of my mind. I was tired of being invisible, tired of trying to pretend to fit in, look happy, and fight the aloneness when I just wanted to sit in a corner and cry. I wasn’t strong enough to keep it up any longer. I was frustrated with it all and wanted to give up being a part of the group, forget spending the energy to be polite and social, and not even try. In some ways, I just didn’t care what people thought anymore. If i was invisible, they wouldn’t notice what I did anyway, right?
Even though the words in the song reflected my thoughts, the lyrics didn’t end there. They continue on to say:
“Hands of mercy won't you cover me, Lord right now I'm asking you to be strong enough, strong enough, for the both of us’” - Matthew West
Following the aggravating encounter, I literally found myself crying out to God in frustration. Looking back at the girl strolling down the sidewalk alone, she doesn't know what to do about it or why it happens, or the purpose of fighting the inner battle repeatedly. Yet God is the only one who had the power to make a difference in these situations. She still doesn't have the answer, and she will never like being the third or fifth or whatever odd number of wheel, but in the end His mercy can be enough, and his strength remains, carrying her through to another day.
