When Everybody Else has Gone Home

Well, Friend, slip around that side gate and come claim a real good patch of shade on this ol’ front porch before them ol’ guinea hens over there organize a welcomin’ committee and charge admission. It’s a real pleasure to see you takin’ a lil’ time to stop in. There’s a cool breeze stirrin’ the curtains, coffee plum strong enough to make a sleepy ol’ possum reconsider its schedule, and a comfy chair waitin’ for anybody that has ever wondered, “Lord, where is everybody when I need ‘em?”

Paul downright knew that feelin’. He had friends, coworkers, faithful companions, and folks that sho’-nuff’ loved him dearly. But there were moments when the crowd plum thinned out and the road got mighty lonely. Then Acts 23:11 gives us one of Scripture’s tenderest pictures as it says, “And the night following the Lord stood by him, and said, Be of good cheer, Paul: for as thou hast testified of me in Jerusalem, so must thou bear witness also at Rome.”  Did you hear that? “The Lord stood by him.”

Not merely watched from heaven. God downright stood by him.

That plum changes loneliness, don’t it?

David knew somethin’ real similar. Psalm 142:4–5 says, “There was no man that would know me... no man cared for my soul. I cried unto thee, O LORD: I said, Thou art my refuge.” Friend, sometimes human absence becomes the place where divine presence grows unmistakably precious.

People are gifts, but they can’t always stay. Friends get tired. Families get stretched thin. Even faithful people may not understand the prison you’re walkin; through. But God never glances at the clock and says, “Well, I’d better be going.”

Father, when loneliness settles heavy, remind me that You stand beside me. Thank You for every person You place in my life, but keep me from expecting people to fill the place that belongs only to You. Make Your presence real to me in quiet rooms, hard seasons, and uncertain roads. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Now then, friend, gather your things and head into the day rememberin’ this. A lone pine tree standin’ up on a ridge may look mighty abandoned, but its roots can still be drinkin’ real deep where nobody sees. A lil’ ol’ whippoorwill can sing into darkness without an audience. And when your own road gets quiet enough to hear your footsteps, don’t you be mistakin’ quiet for no kind of abandonment. Keep right on walkin’ because the Lord that stood right beside Paul is still mighty good at standin’ beside His people today.

With joy,

Gwen