As a teenager, I lived the sort of dream life that church-attending Korean American parents wanted from their children, and the kind of life that many of my peers applauded.
My good grades and commitment to extracurriculars probably should have labeled me a nerd in the cruel social landscape of high school, but I somehow navigated the politics of cliques and had a vibrant social life. I participated at church, volunteered in children’s ministry, and faithfully kept Friday nights open for youth group.
I had every reason to be happy and fulfilled. I was seemingly rich in relationships and accomplishments—as rich as a teenager could be.
So why was I so lonely?
During my junior and senior years of high school, I experienced for the first time a kind of loneliness that didn’t just make me sad—it made me scared. I spent each day surrounded by people, exchanging words and laughs. But every night, I found myself enveloped in a sinking feeling of being alone. I wondered why the relationships in my life didn’t feel concrete or real.
I knew my family loved me, but I didn’t believe they accepted me. Beneath the surface of the model Asian child was a confused and hurting teenager. I hungered for a kind of emotionally sensitive dialogue that my first-generation Korean parents didn’t even know existed. I never questioned my parents’ obligated care for me as their child, but I felt that as a person, I was either too much for them emotionally or not enough for them academically.
I knew my friends enjoyed my friendship and we cared for each other, but I didn’t believe they knew me. I wondered if my friends would stick around if I were to show them a more raw version of me. Would they enjoy my friendship if I took off the mask of a constantly happy and fun Soojin? Most importantly, did they care to know what was actually at my core?
I knew that God is always present in all places, but I didn’t believe He was actually with me. On the outside, I was as strong in my faith as any teenager could be. I never questioned the existence of God, I could spit out a decent explanation of John 3:16, and I made church a central part of my life. However, if you peeled away the outer layers, you would find an orphan who saw God as distant and uninvolved.
You see, as a child I had endured a horrible incident of sexual assault. Although I had no physical bruising left, my soul was permanently bruised, and I was just beginning to realize this as a teenager. Whenever I genuinely experienced God’s love at youth group, I immediately went back to what had happened to me and wondered why God stood by and did nothing to save me. How could God have allowed such evil to enter my life? Maybe God was present in some sense, but I couldn’t believe that he was for me.
The loneliness I felt was too deep and too painful; it left me in tears many nights wondering what was wrong with me. Was I the only one who felt this?
The Jesus I Wish I Knew
It wasn’t until much later that I started to really understand and believe the gospel. I’ve come to realize that the gospel gives a proper response to our loneliness in two main ways.
First, the gospel shows that Jesus made a way for us to never be alone by experiencing the ultimate form of loneliness through his death. Jesus was wrongly tried and betrayed by his own people, ridiculed by his neighbors, and abandoned by his closest friends. All of this pales in comparison, though, to the agony he felt as he hung on the cross all alone, crying out, “Why have you forsaken me?” to his Father, with whom he shared a perfect love. He endured abandonment in the truest sense by everyone around him as he alone carried the weight of sin on his shoulders. He faced the wrath of God alone so that we would not have to endure such loneliness.
Jesus’s sacrifice made it possible for us to know with certainty that we are never alone. God the Son, who broke the barrier between man and God, calls us his friends and sympathizes with us when we experience pain and loneliness (John 15:15). God the Father sent his one and only Son to die so we could be sons and daughters of the living God. We have been adopted by a Father whose love has no boundaries and who never abandons us (Ephesians 1:5, Romans 8:15). God the Spirit dwells inside of us. No matter how much the experiences of our broken lives may cloud our emotions, what is undeniably true is that God is with us every single moment of our lives (Romans 8:11). And as adopted children of God, we are given a multitude of siblings. We are never truly alone, for we are always united to other believers, who are called to love us, care for our needs, and to do the work of Christ together with us.
Second, the gospel reminds us that God’s work is still being done and has yet to be completed. Jesus will come back to finish his good work—but until then, we live in the in-between, where we still deal with sin. This means that despite the fact that God and his people are with us, we will still have moments and seasons in this life when we feel alone. Because of sin, our relationships with each other will be faulty, our church family will fail us, and we’ll always seek more fulfillment from human relationships than we should. Because of sin, we’ll wrestle with days and even seasons where it truly does feel as if God is not with us. Perhaps until our physical bodies are present with God in the new heavens and earth, our fickle hearts will always question if God is really with us. However, this should be a source of comfort—loneliness is a normal experience of life in this broken world. You are not alone in your struggle with loneliness. You’re not extra-broken because you are in a season of loneliness.
Jesus’s soon-to-be completed work also gives us hope by reminding us that experiencing pain in this life does not mean that you have been abandoned by God. If we allow our suffering to lead us to doubt God’s love and protection, we’ll end up in a cycle of despair. Had I known the full gospel in high school, I would not have seen God as distant and uninvolved because he allowed me to be hurt. Instead, I might have been able to see that God was deeply moved by my pain, present with me in my suffering, and that he hated the sin committed against me. In fact, he hated it so much that he sent his Son to die so that sin could be destroyed once and for all.
The Jesus I Want You to Know
While we can’t always understand why things happen, the gospel helps us see God’s nearness clearly. Far from leaving us alone when we suffer, God went above and beyond to make sure our suffering would end and that we could be with him forever.
Your loneliness will try to fool you into thinking you are the only one who feels this way, but remember that this is a common experience and that the gospel gives hope to us all. Like King David, who also felt deep loneliness, I hope you will go to the Lord with honesty and lay down your pain at his feet (Psalm 25:16; 142:4). He cares for you, he cares about your loneliness, and he promises that one day it will end.
Friend, if you are going through a season of loneliness and it feels too hard to bear, find rest in the fact that in Christ, you are truly never alone. I plead with you, don’t brush this off as a cheap Christian platitude. Think deeply about the kind of loneliness that Jesus was willing to endure so that he could be with you and for you because he loves you.
Excerpted from The Jesus I Wish I Knew in High School Asian American Edition ©2024 by Rooted Ministry. Used with permission of New Growth Press. May not be reproduced without prior written permission.atisfies our longing to be known more than we could ever hope or imagine.
The Jesus I Wish I Knew in High School: Asian American Edition
Being a teenager is itself an overwhelming experience, but the struggles unique to Asian American teenagers can often lead us to wonder if anyone truly knows what we’re going through. In this book, twelve authors will come alongside you to share their own high school experiences and to help you know that Jesus makes a difference in your unique struggles. He sees us and knows us fully.
