Loneliness is one of the quietest battles people face, especially in multicultural cities. People on the subway can surround you, sit in a classroom full of students, or work in a busy factory and still feel deeply unseen. This pain is especially intense for those living abroad. You miss the language of your heart. You miss food that tastes like home. You miss your parents, your cousins, and your church back home. You smile in public, but some evenings, when the noise fades, and the door closes behind you, the silence feels heavy. You may even wonder, “Does anyone truly see me?” The Christmas story speaks tenderly to that pain. The night Jesus was born, heaven did not send its message to the rich or powerful. The angels didn’t appear to the Roman rulers or the religious elite. They appeared to shepherds, men working the night shift, unnoticed, living on the margins.
“And the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid, for I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.’” (Luke 2:10)
God saw them. God sent a word just for them. God called them into the center of the miracle. That is still what He does today. You may feel far from family. You may carry burdens you cannot explain in your second language. You may wonder if anyone understands. But I want you to hear this: God sees you. And He sets the lonely in families. (Psalm 68:6) This verse is not just theology. It is a promise. God places the lonely into spiritual homes. Into communities of grace. Into churches that do more than sing, churches that walk with you, pray with you, laugh with you, and listen to you when words are few. Crowds don’t cure loneliness. It’s healed through a spiritual, relational, meaningful connection rooted in God’s presence. Here at our church, we don’t just want to greet you with a handshake. We want to welcome you with our lives. We want to know your story, learn your name, hear your heart, and help carry your load. You are not meant to walk alone. The same Jesus who came into a quiet town, born among animals, cradled in a manger, still comes today quietly, gently, to those who feel forgotten. And when He comes, He brings not only comfort, but He brings belonging. This is the church’s calling: to become the family God uses to answer loneliness.
Join us this Sunday. Not just as a visitor, but as one of us. You don’t have to walk alone. In this family, there’s room for your story, your sorrow, your hope. And above all there is Christ, who sees you and calls you beloved.
By Rev. Yaqub Kashif
