During my sophomore year of high school, the performing arts program I was part of whisked us away on a field trip to New York City — a dazzling, larger-than-life destination I’d never experienced before. As an aspiring actress with stars in my eyes, this trip felt like a golden ticket to my dreams.

Our itinerary was packed with classic NYC tourist experiences, including, of course, the magic of Broadway. Among the shows we saw was “Dear Evan Hansen,” a title I hadn’t heard of — not surprising, since it was still in its off-Broadway phase (which is basically the trial run before they actually hit the big stage). What I didn’t expect was the emotional weight it carried. With a tight 12-person cast, the production was an unflinching exploration of loneliness, suicide, depression, and the desperate lengths we go to belong. Though rooted in a secular perspective, I’ll never forget the way it impacted me during that phase of my life.

The story struck a chord deep within. A lyric that stood out went like this: “No one deserves to be forgotten. No one deserves to fade away. No one should come and go and have no one know he was ever even here. No one deserves to disappear.” Those words felt like a desperate plea, a haunting prayer — a mirror reflecting my own unspoken fears of being unseen, unheard, uncared for.

Truthfully, loneliness was no stranger to me. I carried it quietly, a heavy shadow that lingered long after the curtain fell. Through high school and into college, I often felt like an insecure outcast, wrestling with isolation in silence. Loneliness has a cruel power — it whispers lies that burrow deep: “No one cares about you. Nothing you do matters.” Those lies spiral into darker questions: What’s the point of going on? Why am I here? Will it ever get better? The weight of those thoughts can feel suffocating, tempting us to retreat further behind walls we build around our hearts and minds.

Yet, in the echo of that Broadway stage, I found something else: a reminder that our stories, however broken, are worth telling; that life is worth living. That even in our darkest moments, we are not as alone as we fear. And that, perhaps, the point lies in reaching out, in sharing our truths, and in refusing to let ourselves — or others — disappear. For sophomore Sarah, that night in the theater was a moment that helped my teenage heart grapple with harsh realities.

But as the years unfolded, my faith deepened, and God revealed a far greater truth — a light that outshone the fleeting spotlight of that stage. By His grace, He showed me that every soul matters, crafted in His image, and every moment carries eternal weight, ordained by His infinite wisdom. That Broadway experience may have been a spark, igniting my exploration of deeply felt emotions, but it was faith that became the steady flame guiding me to where I stand today — rooted, hopeful, and resolute in ensuring no one feels unseen or believes their life holds no value.

Pastor Rich Bitterman once wrote, “Alone is a lie. God is with you. Always.” In this fallen world, loneliness may stalk us, but faith reminds us we are never disconnected from Christ. He is our constant companion, a light piercing the darkest shadows, an anchor in life’s fiercest storms. Our faith in Jesus is not a fleeting refuge we turn to in desperation; it is the unyielding rock upon which we stand at every moment — unchanging yesterday, today, and forever.

Does this mean we’ll never feel lonely again? No. Feelings are fickle, and the enemy is cunning, whispering lies that we are forgotten or insignificant. But as C.S. Lewis once said, “Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.” So, when the enemy’s lies creep in, we can call them out for what they are — deceptions that crumble in the face of God’s truth.

Moreover, the 17th-century Puritan theologian Richard Sibbes offers a timeless reminder: “Measure not God’s love and favor by your own feeling. The sun shines as clearly in the darkest day as it does in the brightest. The difference is not in the sun, but in some clouds which hinder the manifestation of the light thereof.” Our feelings may falter, but God’s presence never wavers.

That night in a New York theater, a story of loneliness and longing planted a seed in my heart — a fragile spark of hope that faith would later nurture into an unyielding conviction. We are not destined to vanish into obscurity, nor are we called to let others fade into the shadows. God’s love, eternal and unbreakable, proclaims that every life is precious, every story imbued with meaning, every soul seen and known. Even our pain is woven into His eternal design, and even our loneliness bears a sacred purpose.

The stage of this world may dazzle with fleeting moments, but in Christ, we find a significance that transcends time and space. As John Newton so beautifully declared, “How unspeakably wonderful to know that all our concerns are held in the hands that bled for us.” We are not merely remembered; we are redeemed, purchased at the infinite cost of Christ’s own life.

You may be in one of the worst seasons of your life right now. Every step aches, and joy feels far from reach. Dear reader, if that is you, rest in Christ. Pour out your heart to Him. He is near, and He will provide — trust that He will provide. His promises are not swayed by the tempests of our circumstances.

Or perhaps you stand in a season of light, where life brims with blessing. These truths are no less vital. Let them take root in your heart, fueling daily praise for God’s steadfast faithfulness. Anchor your trust in Him, so that when storms do arise, your soul remains secure. Whether in joy or trial, may these truths resound so deeply that, like pastor C.H. Spurgeon, you can declare, “I have learned to kiss the wave that throws me against the Rock of Ages.”

As we carry this truth forward, may it ignite a holy resolve to live it out — not only for ourselves but for those still lost in the dark. To the lonely, the broken, the unseen: you are not forgotten. Your life is a vital thread in God’s eternal tapestry, intricately woven with purpose and held fast by grace. And to those who know this truth, let us be bearers of His radiant light, reaching out to the overlooked, giving voice to the silenced, and proclaiming to a weary world that in Christ, no one ever fades away.

In Him, we are found — forever known, forever loved, and forever held.