All the Lonely People Posted by Ashleigh Slater on September 24, 2009

I think my husband Ted has watched School of Rock one too many times.

As our resident musician, he's recently determined that it's his responsibility to educate our kids in music. While he has yet to put a drum set in the living room or enter our kids in a Battle of the Bands Contest, he has instituted a Music Appreciation class of sorts. We've listened to Stevie Wonder, Chicago, Rush, and more classical music than I care to list.

Yesterday marked Beatles Appreciation Day here. OK, so maybe not officially. But we did spend a good portion of our Wednesday listening to the British band.

Ted firmly believes that the Beatles are an essential part of any musical education. So in his quest to introduce our three young daughters to what he considers foundational, we've been ingesting the Fab Four.

The responses have been mixed.

While my 5-year-old was convinced that "Love Me Do" is perfect campfire music, my 1-year-old eagerly danced to the rock n' roll crafted decades before her birth. My 3-year-old was oblivious, despite her love for music. Although I did manage to draw a giggle from her when I grabbed her hand and sang along to "I Want to Hold Your Hand."

What have I personally discovered about the Beatles? I've learned that a song like "Eleanor Rigby" is haunting -- especially after reading a two-part article like George Haltizka's "Everett Bradley." This fictional account reminded me that lonely people exist in all seasons of life, whether in the form of an 84-year-old man named Everett, a middle-aged man named Tom, or a teenager named Stacy.

Have you ever felt lonely? I have.

I've wondered, as the Beatles ask of lonely people, Where do I belong? I have felt useless like Everett Bradley.

While I'm not eager to return to a season of loneliness, I am thankful for what it has taught me.

First, I shouldn't discount how God can use lonely seasons in my life to draw me closer to Him. Loneliness has driven me to a place of complete dependency, where I can't run to a friend in place of running to Him. How easy it is, when a problem arises, to call a friend and ask, "Can you pray for me?" before I've even bothered to stop and pray myself.

It's through these lonely seasons that I've remembered, I'm never truly alone. I have a wondrous Savior at my side, who has promised that He will never leave me or forsake me.

And second, it's made me more aware of the lonely people I come in contact with in daily life. Those who have just moved into the area or have yet to find their place in a community. I admit most of the time I fail to reach out to others; often I'm too distracted with my kids. But I want to improve. I want to do better.

Today we're listening to a CD titled 100 Best Ballet. The response from my girls is more united. Two out of three jumped at the opportunity to prance around the house dressed as ballerinas. The third? Well, she decided to dress as a rock star. Perhaps she gleaned more from the Beatles yesterday than merely "campfire music."

Comments

[Melissa]

Your comment about asking people to pray for you before you've prayed for yourself hit home for me. I think sometimes I use the process of asking people for prayer as a way to let them know my needs instead of coming right out and talking about them. Also, why is it that we feel like God is more apt to respond when others pray instead of ourselves? Such a great reminder to use times of loneliness to draw closer to God and realign our relationship with Him.