We recently returned from a celebratory 20th anniversary trip to Italy and France. While in Rome, we visited the Colosseum, the Forum and the Pantheon. We walked around piazzas and buildings that are hundreds and thousands of years old; we stepped down into wine cellars that were hand carved in 200BC and we climbed up cathedral towers to see sweeping views of the Tuscan hills. “I feel small,” I said to my husband. Here I am, just one little dot in the universe. No one who walked on those streets two millennia ago gave any thought to me. I’m here for a minute, then gone. Though the words and works of a few remain (Shakespeare, Michelangelo), most of us will speak into the wind and be soon forgotten. James 4:14 “Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.”

Saddened by the death of Kate Spade on the day we traveled back home, and just three days later, the strikingly similar tragic loss of Anthony Bourdain, I was rendered speechless. Stunned. Why? For two people who seemed to have everything, they felt they had nothing. I don’t bring up the death of these iconic figures to offer an explanation, or to suggest a mitigation plan for future losses. I am writing their names because they surprised me. Because they made me think about my own life and my own sense of feeling small and empty.

While I have never crafted a plan for suicide, I have felt the crushing weight of life and I have had moments where I thought to myself, “I simply don’t want to do this, to do life, anymore.” After a tough case in the OR, an academic rejection, a job loss, a relationship wound…I can see where desperation creeps in, where inner loneliness is one’s reality despite the appearances of connectedness and happiness. I have pondered the options of toughening up and moving on…or simply giving up. The issues are difficult and personal and complex…everyone hits rock bottom at surprising times…and everyone has a different way out.

For me, rock bottom comes during moments of isolation; usually my own self-crafted, self-pitying isolation. There may always be people around, but I may not always be connected to them. There are times when I feel inconsequential, alone, inadequate; when I judge my life against the successes of others, comparing my everyday to their best day. There are times when I feel lost in the masses, unknown. Small.

I have come to understand, however, in those times of feeling small or meaningless, when I have someone who comes along side of me, from that big wide open bustling world, and brings their arms around me, I start to feel less small. It’s the times when I have felt the most alone and broken that I have had someone come beside me, not with a FaceBook post or a generic text, but with their arms, and more importantly their time. They let me cry and let me say things that are hard, painful, embarrassing. We are connected–I mean truly, deeply, honestly brutally connected. These are the moments when the world feels small, and I don’t.

The truth we need to grasp is that we must live in the balance of feeling small and living in a small world. Luke 12:7 “Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” There are times when I am the small one and I need the world to come in, encircle me, and remind me of my value. And there are times, when I am strong enough, that I need to close in, to make someone else’s world small…so they don’t have to feel lost. In the intimate space of deep, connected relationship with my husband, my family, my friends…my Savior…where I disclose my secrets and safely pour out my heart, I find clarity… my true place in the world, my true worth in the eyes of those who matter.

Disclaimer: My viewpoints are not necessarily reflective of my employer, or any local, regional or national organization that I belong to. As a matter of fact, I pretty much just speak for myself. Please keep that in mind.