Many of us have known the soul-crushing isolation of life on the field. While we may feel like the whole community around us is observing our every move, we long for someone to know us and to care for us and for some semblance of a reciprocal relationship.

I had steeled myself for a season of a few months where I would be by my myself with my family in a new-to-us city. I had anticipated feeling lonely, but nothing could have prepared me for the deep isolation I felt. 

Would anyone know if something happened to us? 

How long would it take for someone to miss us? 

Frantic questions ran through my head. 

Thankfully a family moved next door. While we did not share faith, this woman and I shared a mutual respect and care for one another. My situation reminded her of seasons of deep loneliness, and she took me under her wing. She had spent months at a time separated from her support system – all the while caring for her young children as her husband worked far from her. She had no desire for me to experience what she had already gone through. She sent her (now older) daughters to help me with my kids. She helped me when I hosted. She also made a way for me to be welcomed and cautiously accepted in the community. Furthermore, she welcomed my family into her home for regular visits and even for holidays. 

In a season when I stuck out like a sore thumb, when the whole community watched me without engaging with me, this neighbor taught me to care for the people around me with generosity and abandon. 

I was diligent to reach out to friends outside of the city who prayed for me and would visit with me via phone calls. I also took periodic trips outside of the city to meet face to face with sisters who would encourage me and pray with me. 

But I was gifted a friend who cared deeply for me and my family in a time when I desperately needed it and in ways that I did not even know that I needed. Through her, God reminded me that He sees me and my family and loves us deeply.