Loneliness creates probably the greatest and most devastating hole in the soul of man. Ever since God made us in his image and declared, "It is not good for man to be alone," we were primed to live in perfect intimacy with him and one another. Ever since Adam sinned and the world tumbled into fall, we were doomed to face the pain of loneliness, isolation, alienation.

There are other pains, to be sure; but all of them result in loneliness. Our sin or the sin of others puts walls, barriers, miles of barren terrible wilderness between us and people and us and God. We exist inside our own little hideaway, hoping and wanting and wishing for someone to see us, someone to love us as we are, someone to exist with so we will not have to be alone.

Some loneliness is simply a result of this broken world. Some of it is by choice. Some of it is a result of the evil done by us or to us.

All of it hurts. All of it ends up the same way: distance.

Even those with close friends or a spouse can end up lonely. Loneliness isn't a disease only the single or exiles catch. Sometimes people have a thousand "friends" but not one of them sees them for who they are. You can be in a crowd, it's often said, and be lonelier than those who are alone.

Of course it was not meant to be. In an ideal world, we'd live with perfect closeness between us and God and our fellow man.

In an imperfect world, loneliness can become a pain that forces us to God. I once had a prophetic word that my loneliness had hemmed me in to God, because I had no one else. Truer word never spoken. But it comes at the price of terrible pain.

In an imperfect world, we seek to assuage the terrible, sucking, horrible, emptiness of isolation in many ways. The things we do numb us to protect us from the pain, whatever they are. It could be drugs, it could be surfing the internet endlessly. It could be reaching out and dialing that number when you know you shouldn't. It could be going out to clubs to seek someone to spend the night with, just for the temporary, deceitful feel of love that leaves us emptier than before. Because facing the barren, naked pain with nothing between it and us is unthinkable, it would destroy us.

We have to learn the hard way to go to God. We have to learn the hard way not to give into the powerful, all-encompassing scream to do whatever it is that will give us a few more minutes of peace, shut up the barking dog for a little while. We have to fight against the undertow that will suck us out to sea, into oblivion and into greater hurt. We have to face it, and cry out to Jesus.

That is not as cliched as it sounds. For I've had to do it. Time and time again, when loneliness bites and gnaws like an animal that will destroy me, I've had to identify it, face it, stare it down, resist its urges, and recognize a time to turn to God. If I ignore it and him, I miss an opportunity to learn his love. If I don't take his hand and walk with him through the valley of the shadow of loneliness, I become a shallower and emptier and colder person.

When I cry out to him, he meets me. When I cry out to him, allow him to wrap his arms around me, ask his Spirit to fill me, he does. It comes at the price of terrible pain, I told you. But the result is worth it. It's intimacy with God. I wouldn't, at this point in my life, choose to go back on all the pain. Even though right at this moment, if I could, I'd dodge and duck the pain I'm feeling.

He knows better. Loneliness is a gift. It's not one I would have chosen, but if I walk alone and it allows me to know him and to love others better, I guess, it's worth it.