To Have, Yet Have Not

It was once said that emotionally healthy people have a third place in their lives. You see this in TV shows often. In Friends, the third place is Central Perk. In Seinfeld, the characters often went to Monk's Cafe. These are frequent hangout spots other than your home and work. These places of community could be bars, restaurants, coffee shops, or even church.

A couple times a month, I will frequent a speakeasy style lounge that is about 10 minutes from my apartment. I will often go alone but I also love to take friends here to socialize. I enjoy the aspect of sitting at a bar top and meeting new people. It gives me a chance to be relational.

One week, I met a guy who travels for work and he told me how he met his wife while camping. Another time, I met a lady in her late 40s who recently went through a divorce and talked how her faith in God plays a role in her life. We had a fascinating talk about faith, dating, and work. You never know who you will meet and what conversations will converse.

This past Friday night, I went to my third place in hopes of talking with some new people. Normally, it is no problem finding people willing to share in conversation over a drink.

But this night was different.

The place was bustling with couples and parties. There was one seat left open at the end of the bar. The man next to me at the bar had his back turned the entire time, not even offering a chance for me to say hello. My aim at being relational that evening was going south.

As I sat there waiting for my food, I looked around the restaurant and at the many people talking and eating. Suddenly, one lady caught my eye. Not romantically, that is. But, she was sitting next to her husband with another couple sitting with them. They looked to be in a different social class than me with their demeanor and dress. Her husband was telling a story and the couple across from them was dialed in.

His wife sat quiet while staring forward with her hand on her chin. He feet were fidgety. Her face was deadpan. She felt lonely, like me.

I came into the lounge with nobody. She came in with her husband and friends with, I am assuming, similar hopes as I-- to talk and laugh with the people around you.

It got me thinking about the tragedy that is relational loneliness. Maybe there is a better term for it. But, it is one thing to feel lonely when you are alone and a whole other feeling when you feel lonely with other people at your side.

Have you felt this way?

My feelings of loneliness at this bar were fleeting and more understandable given my circumstance. Hers, on the other hand, were more discreet and desperate.

I truly felt bad for this lady. I could only image the thoughts going through her head as her husband seemed to be the center of attention at the table. I have always said that I would rather be alone than be with people who isolate me from conversation. Fewer things make me feel as weak and unwanted as the feelings I fear this lady across from me was having.

Regardless of our social status, financial income, or season of life, the richness of healthy relationships is imperative for our overall well being. Without it, our thoughts can run astray with our doubts becoming the loudest voice in our heads.

This doesn't mean that going to a bar or coffee shop by yourself intentionally for some alone time is bad. In fact, I think from time to time it is quite healthy. You can only be relationally healthy as far as you can be joyfully content by yourself.

If you ever find yourself in the shoes of this lady at the lounge, I encourage you to express your lonely, frustrated thoughts with God in that moment. Why do I feel this way? Why am I lonely in this moment when other people are with me? How do I deal with this?

Being a relational person is not about being the most talkative person in the room. Rather, it's about being communicative towards God with our raw emotions in all moments of life.

If you are in a group of people and you notice someone in the group feeling disengaged, do your best to bring them into conversation in a way that is compassionate and inviting. There is much joy in social gatherings when we are seen and valued. There is also much anguish in the same situations when those feelings are absent.

Written by Adam Garner