Pursuing Presence in Isolation (Pt. 2)
“INTENTIONALITY”
Two weeks ago, I got a letter from Cynthia. Not a note. Not a card. A bona fide letter—five pages long, front AND back. I stood in my kitchen and held the letter out in front of me, the kids pulling at my arms to see what it was. I laughed at their confused looks at this foreign thing called “real mail” and put it aside until I could give it my full attention.
The letter was too sacred to be rushed.
For six years, Cynthia has been one of my dearest friends. We met when family moved to Tennessee, and Cynthia and I bonded quickly over our boy-mom stats, Midwestern roots, and love of God, good books, and red wine (in that order). The first time we got together for a playdate, we had such a good conversation we both ended up in tears. In my friend playbook, that’s a good sign.
For four years, Cynthia and I moved seamlessly in and out of each other’s daily lives, dropping kids off at each other’s homes, meeting up at the park, and coordinating kid-free time to sit with each other at our favorite coffee shop while we both worked on our laptops.
Then came the change. A new job for Ben and the desire to be near grandparents relocated my crew back to Indiana. Initially, Cynthia and I struggled to renegotiate our friendship. Not because we didn’t want to but because we were both grieving the gap caused by living two states away, and we no longer had each other nearby for comfort.
We went from eight minutes to eight hours apart, and our once-easy friendship became hard. In many ways, we are still trying to figure it out two and a half years later.
But if Cynthia has taught me anything about being a good friend, it’s this: Relational connectedness takes intentionality and commitment. Good intentions won’t suffice. Inaction only slides relationships into the abyss of “out of sight, out of mind”—and unfortunately, too often that becomes our default.
Not only in human relationships, but also with God.
We get wrapped up in what seems urgent and right in front of us, and we grow forgetful. We make plans and don’t follow through. Self-sufficiency kicks in, and pride whispers that we are enough, that maybe we don’t really need those relationships after all. We end up living a bland and solitary life—lacking the substance, richness, and freedom that come from connection.
Social distancing isn’t new. Many of us have just been too busy to notice.
What quarantine has done is reveal the deeper needs of our humanity. It’s stripped us of our schedules and our diversions, of our ability to be “near” people without really knowing them. It’s forced into a different pace—some of us with too many hours in a day, others with not enough. Life feels heavy, and most days we cannot even name the ache because it’s everything and nothing all at once.
The reality is that we are people in need of presence, of proximity to both God and to each other. And right now, in the age of pandemic, none of our usual substitutes are working.
But Cynthia’s letter reminded me that presence is worth figuring out, of fighting past the awkwardness and barriers that come with distance. Of making the most of quiet moments, of sending tangible tokens of our connectedness, and of pursuing relationships that have been on standby—maybe even in our own homes. Maybe with God. It’s time to pay attention to our inner promptings, to stop “shoulding” ourselves to reach out and instead move toward each other, toward a life of authentic connectivity and love.
That might look different for each of us (perhaps in my next post, I’ll try to include more practical ideas than philosophical reflections…but no promises). But no matter how we get there, we must remember: Presence begins with intentional movement, toward God and each other. Yes, six feet might separate us for the foreseeable future, but intentionality graces over all the flaws brought on by distance.
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort. He comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any kind of affliction, through the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” (1 Corinthians 1:3-4, CSB)
“Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.” (James 4:8a, CSB)
For part one of the “Pursuing Presence in Isolation” series, CLICK HERE.