The Old 'Sea of Lonliness'

So I am going to share with you (I probably already have in the past) a story and poem that I wrote back in 2004, 4 years ago now (probably almost to this very day). I share this with you because the other day we were asked at church to go around our tables (yes we sit at tables at my church) and boast in something we either saw the Lord doing in ourselves or in other people and for me, this is a testimony worth sharing; it shows how far I have truly come.
I used to be someone who didn't know how to have true friendships. I'd always isolate myself and not really say much to people, let alone open up with them in the ways that I do now. It used to be something that always haunted me, until sometime last year. I can't pin it on an exact date because I just suddenly stopped even thinking that I used to be that way and it truly was a non-issue. I know I've come so far, in fact, I might be a little extreme these days when it comes to this kind of thing. Almost like I am trying to make up for so much lost time.
Anyways, I haven't paid much mind to this in such a long time, like I've just been going on with my life as if I never had a problem with isolating myself and pulling away from large groups of people.
Anyways here is the story and poem. I wrote them together so they're on document, not pome and story as separate entities:

I row through the silent waters, the only sound being that of the oars as they cut through the bitter cold surface below. This sound was once a sound filled with hope, hope that I was moving in the right direction, but through the silence it has become something quite different; it reverberates within my skull with the revelation that I am not rowing towards a peace filled land at all. I realize with all certainty that this sound, which reverberates within my head, which is created by my motion forward, is really only bringing me closer and closer to a still and silent oblivion; the very sea that was once my friend has now betrayed me. “Come Greg,” it said to me, “see how people reject you? See how they hurt you? See how they betray your trust? Silent loneliness will never betray you; will never hurt you! Come now! Isolate yourself! Isolation will never demand that you fit in, and in being alone, you will never be hurt again!” Unfortunately, I had not realized that in being isolated, in being alone, I would never be able to experience the joys that deep friends go through. So without understanding, I stepped into a boat of Silence and Isolation and ventured out onto the vast sea of loneliness. It is this vast sea that has betrayed me! Yes, a deep fog has overcome me and I am now unable to distinguish how to get back; back into the world of deep meaningful friendships. It is almost impossible for me to remember what it looks like, and therefore I am even more lost and isolated than I ever was before. The mist of confusion and the stillness surround me like an iron curtain and the boat, in which once was my abode, has become to me a one-man prison. There is one, though, who can lift the iron curtain and remove me from my silent penitentiary. One whose word is always true and who sincerely wants to be my friend. This friend is found in Jesus Christ my Lord and there is this one and only query left to answer; will I choose to follow Him and the path of healing that He sets before me, or will I continue to row? Both paths ensue me with fear; for the former, I am afraid of being let down, rejected and hurt again, and the latter? Because I know that if I continue down it, if I continue to drift on this Sea of Loneliness, I will be forever condemned to an empty silence and will one day slip into dark oblivion…


I sit quietly for a moment but then continue to forge ahead
Ceaselessly moving onward over a calm and silent sea.
Alone in this boat, my wounded heart and seclusion are eternally wed
Ceaselessly floating onward over a calm and lonely sea.

I remember the promise I was given if I would just sit here and row
Endlessly staring at the chance that hangs above my boats edge
Recalling the assurance I was handed if I would just sit here and row
Endlessly screaming as my hope does fade on this broken pledge.

I ponder my hearts paradigm of a still, quiet, and forlorn detachment
Ceaselessly praying for the strength to stand and put down my oars.
Alone no more, I realize that my time in prayer was not utterly spent,
And that I can now come to rest on those distant, far-off, shores.