I’m not a stranger to seasons of intense loneliness. I experienced it as a young girl who often felt like the odd duck in a beloved extended family of beautiful swans. I experienced it as a military spouse who often did the rinse-and-repeat routine of move, find new friends, and move again. And I’ve experienced it as a middle-aged woman who’s worried that a large portion of her identity has flown the coop right along with her adult kids.

Loneliness is especially hard because it compounds whatever struggle we’re enduring. Whether it’s a difficult move or a difficult marriage, loneliness makes your circumstances that much more difficult to walk through.

I know the frustration, too, of doing things to try and alleviate my loneliness only to be met with a lackluster response. Years ago, I cooked up a storm for a party and invited several folks over, but not one single person showed up. Later, when my husband deployed, I risked vulnerability by telling a group of new-to-me girls I was lonely only to hear nothing but chirpy insects. Sometimes, I’ve felt it after my family or I made a decision that few (if any) people understood.

As one now blessed to look back at a lot of life, I see obvious highlights where people alleviated my loneliness along the way. My magnificent Mema Rea and my other Mama Mary, always concerned that I was hungry, cooked pizza and baked homemade Reese’s bars because they knew I loved them. My high school best friend, Cathy, and her amazing mama, Dorothy, repeatedly welcomed me into their family like another daughter. When I had to leave my first teaching job for an across-country move, Patty and Susan threw me the best farewell party. Rebecca, after knowing me for only a month, threw my 27th birthday dinner party complete with a cake (the fastest way to my heart).

So, what did all those folks have in common? They noticed me. That’s the beginning and end of it, really. Through a kind word or small action, they noticed me. And as I passed by the mile markers of their loving kindness and friendship overtures, I felt less lonely.

Of course, it’s lovely when life works out that way. To be noticed is about the best feeling there is, I think. But what about the times you’re ignored, left out — not noticed? Perhaps you’re younger and so new to an area that no one knows to notice you. Or, perhaps you’re older and know the pain of people looking right past you.

To the degree it feels good to be noticed is the degree it feels awful to remain unseen.

The fact is, it takes time and opportunity to be noticed and to get to know people. In the waiting time between being unseen and seen, I’ve found this course of action the most helpful thing I can do to alleviate my loneliness:

Instead of waiting for someone to notice me, I notice someone else.

If we hopscotch through the Gospels, we see that Jesus was a pro at noticing people. He noticed when the bleeding woman touched His hem (Matthew 9:20-22, Mark 5:25-34, Luke 8:43-48). He noticed when Simon Peter and other disciples couldn’t catch any fish. (John 21:1-6). And He noticed when Mary Magdalene stood crying outside His empty tomb (John 20:11-18).

In all of these cases and many more still, Jesus’s first step to helping people was noticing them.

The same prescription is a good way to work through our own seasons of crushing loneliness. So, if I notice a new-to-me person in the neighborhood or at church, I’ll introduce myself and ask her a question or two. If I see someone at the grocery store wearing cute sandals or boots, I’ll tell her exactly what I think of her shoes. If I’ve made a too-big pot of soup at home, I’ll give the extra to someone. Or, I’ll simply double the recipe in the first place in order to double the blessing.

It’s certainly possible that in the Lord’s kindness, someone else may notice us without us having to reach out to them first. But we have 0% say in whether or not that happens. On the flip side, we have 100% say in how we choose to act in every season of our lives.

While there’s not a thing wrong with lamenting my lonely circumstances, I don’t want to turn inward to such a degree I give up my agency to see others. I want to notice others — and therefore create the opportunity for them to notice me in return.

To that end, may each of us notice someone else and in turn, notice that our loneliness is lessening, too, praise be to the good Lord above.

Are you, like so many others, in a season of loneliness? This 90-day devotional, Praying Through Loneliness, may be of help to you.

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