Breaking the Stranglehold of Loneliness

Transitioning from a 9-to-5 job to the life of a writer has been, in many respects, a very lonely process. You put your work out there, exposing your heart, and pray it makes a difference.

This kind of isolation can feel like a desert. It’s no accident that Jesus “was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted” (Matthew 4:1, ESV). The desert is where we are isolated. It’s where our resources are stripped away. It’s where the enemy can convince us that God isn’t good, that He has forgotten us. It’s where we hear the lies: No one sees me. No one understands. I am all alone.
This is the stronghold of loneliness.

And it’s an epidemic. The U.S. Surgeon General has declared loneliness a public health crisis, with health risks as damaging as smoking 15 cigarettes a day. This isn’t just a feeling; it’s a physical danger.

For people with disabilities and their families, this is not news. Social isolation is one of the most painful, chronic parts of life. It’s the friend who stops calling after the diagnosis, uncomfortable with a new reality they can’t fix. It’s the church that is physically inaccessible, sending a clear message: “You don’t belong here.” It’s the small group that meets in a home with stairs, an oversight that becomes a wall. It’s the constant, grinding feeling of being on the outside, looking in.

For caregivers, loneliness is a constant companion. It’s a cruel paradox. You can be in the same house with someone 24/7, your life physically entangled with theirs, and feel profoundly, achingly alone. You sacrifice your own social life, hobbies, and friendships to care for another. Your world shrinks. The calls stop coming, because people assume you’re too busy. And you are. But you’re also desperately lonely.

This is the lie of the desert: that this isolation is permanent. That this is all there is. That God has forgotten.

But God’s design for us is not isolation. It is community. He is the one who said, “It is not good that the man should be alone” (Genesis 2:18, ESV). He’s the one who promises, “God settles the solitary in a home” (Psalm 68:6, ESV).

The research is clear: the antidote to loneliness isn’t a crowd. It’s not just being around people. It’s belonging. It’s being known.

So how do we break this stranglehold? How do we move from the desert of isolation to the home God promises? It requires a biblical solution, a word that’s richer than “community” or “fellowship.”

It requires koinonia.

This is Part 4 of our 5-part series on loneliness. We’ve named the pain of being a project, being unheard, and being unprotected. Now we’ve named the deep, systemic crisis of loneliness. But what’s the solution?

Catch up on the series: Read Part 1: “Beyond the Pity Project”, Part 2: “Please, Don’t Fix Me. Just Hear Me.”, and Part 3: “Are You an Introvert, or Just Protecting Your Peace?” Come back tomorrow for our final post: “Finding Our Home: The Koinonia Solution.”