When the quiet feels too loud

I’d decided to do a proper clear-out, as you do in May, when the sun comes out and suddenly you can see dust on every surface.

We’ve always enjoyed board games as a family, and with six children you can imagine how many toys we’ve accumulated. Our toys and games cupboard needed to be large. Over the years the contents have changed a lot – from big, brightly coloured plastic items for little hands to grasp, through train sets and Barbies, and into games of skill and logic.

We didn’t seem to have disposed of much, though: years of fads and phases seemed to be represented! I started to box up the things everyone had outgrown, just keeping one shelf for family favourites. There was still plenty for the charity shop to benefit from.

The pang of loneliness

Clearing that cupboard took me a long time, because every item carried its own memories. I would sit for a moment with each one in my hand, remembering everyone sitting round the kitchen table, playing together, footsteps running up and down stairs, doors banging, lights left on everywhere, a house full of laughter and noise. Right then, the house felt very quiet, and I had a sudden sense of loneliness.

We often hear about the effects of the ‘empty nest’, and now I was looking at the prospect of my own cosy house being empty of children. So much of my identity is wrapped up in being a mum. It was all I’ve ever wanted to be, and something I’ve always enjoyed, even when things have been very difficult.

But the old family busyness doesn’t happen in the same way anymore. That half-empty toy cupboard suddenly looked bare, and my quiet house feels different now. I could feel a new loneliness surrounding me, and it looked like the future. It didn’t rule me, not yet, but I thought I needed to do something about it, before it got out of control.

What to do when lonely

The other day I was listening to a radio programme about loneliness. It seems to be a major problem for many people of all ages. And people find ways to compensate for their lack of human contact. Did you know you can take out a subscription to a website that provides an AI ‘companion’ – a chatbot that will have daily conversations with you, listen to your worries and talk about your life? People will reach for anything that feels like presence – even something artificial – just to feel seen, feel heard and have a connection.

It made me realise that I don’t want to slide unthinkingly into filling my lonely moments with distractions, whether those are digital ones, emotional ones or even lifestyle ones. I don’t want to try to fill the void with buying things, because I know that won’t work. You need to satisfy the deeper longings of your soul with the things that last.

Bishop Augustine in his Confessions says: “Lord, you have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they find rest in you.” Augustine lived in the fourth century, so I guess people haven’t changed much.

We empty nesters still have so much to give to our family, our community and God. I don’t want to hide away and do things that only benefit me, because I’d find that even more lonely. 

Feelings of emptiness and loneliness often show where we’ve anchored our sense of self. If my identity is rooted in:

my role in the family, then any shift in that role feels like a loss

being needed, then times of quiet feel like rejection

constant connection, then silence feels like failure

However, if my identity is rooted in Christ, then my foundations are sure. Life in Him is eternal life and eternal love. There is always work to do for His kingdom, whether that is busy activity or quiet prayer, and we are part of the vast, eternal network of His followers. Jesus said: “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10). 

People will reach for anything that feels like presence

I realised that my jolt of loneliness could lead me in three possible directions. I could take the route of self-pity and isolation, removing myself from life and living with my memories. I could take the route of frenetic activity, filling my hours with meaningless noise and busyness, immersing myself in the fake ‘relationships’ of social media, and surrounding myself with material things. Or I could open my eyes and ears to see what God has in store for me. 

“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future’” (Jeremiah 29:11).

As I dwelled on that truth, the toys went more quickly into the charity box. Some of them I put carefully away – there may be grandchildren one day! They are reminders of a beautiful season, but they’re not where my identity resides. I have a new sense of excitement about what God has in store for me next, in the new season of my life. 

My identity has always been in Christ, and my value lies in His steady, constant, unchanging love for me. And in that truth I want to live, so even the quiet moments of loneliness don’t feel so loud.