There’s a Loneliness in Following Jesus

No one talks about this part. They talk about the peace that surpasses understanding, the joy that comes in the morning, the community, the belonging, the love. And all of that is true. Every single word. But what’s also true, what’s often left out—is that there’s a deep, aching loneliness in following Jesus sometimes.

Not because He is distant. Not because He has left. But because the path He walks often cuts through places others are unwilling to go.

I didn’t expect it. I thought walking with Jesus would feel like walking with people too. Like we’d all be heading in the same direction, singing the same songs, holding each other up. I thought faith would bring me into rooms where I’d feel understood, surrounded, safe. But sometimes, following Jesus means walking a narrow road, one that splits off from comfort and crowd and ease. Sometimes, it means standing in a room full of people and still feeling like the odd one out.

Sometimes it means choosing honesty when it would be easier to blend in. Choosing kindness when bitterness feels more satisfying. Choosing surrender when everyone else is hustling for control. Sometimes it’s staying quiet when you’re misunderstood. Sometimes it’s speaking up and losing friends over it.

There’s a loneliness in conviction. A loneliness in obedience. A loneliness in trusting God in the dark, when everyone around you is chasing lightbulbs that burn out quickly.

Even Jesus felt it.

When the crowds left because His words were too hard.

When His own disciples fell asleep while He sweat blood in Gethsemane.

When Peter denied Him.

When Judas betrayed Him with a kiss.

When He hung on a cross, alone.

He knows the loneliness. He’s been there. And somehow, that helps me breathe again.

“He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, and familiar with pain…” (Isaiah 53:3, NIV). He gets it. He gets me.

Following Jesus doesn’t mean I’ll always feel surrounded. It doesn’t mean every step will be met with applause or affirmation. It means I’ll be known by Him. It means I’ll walk where He walks, even if no one else joins me. It means I’ll trust that He is enough company for the journey.

Some days, the road will be lonely. But it will never be empty.

And maybe that’s the point.

It keeps our eyes on Him… our need for Him and not what the world offers. It strips away the noise and brings us back to the heart of it all: just Jesus.

love, Sarah x.

Did this speak to you?

If this post met you in a quiet place—if it helped you feel a little less alone in your walk with Jesus, I’d love if you’d share it with someone else who might need it too. Forward it to a friend, post it in your favorite Facebook group, or share it in a space where honest, tender faith is welcome. You never know who’s quietly wrestling right now.

And if you’d like to go deeper with me, I share more raw reflections, behind-the-scenes prayers, and gentle heart updates in my Faith & Me space. It’s where I talk about the real things I’m walking through, the verses keeping me grounded, and the quiet moments that don’t always make it into the main posts.

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It helps me keep showing up—honestly, gently, vulnerably, and it means more than you know.

It’s quieter there. But it’s real.

No matter how you show up here, you’re always welcome.