06/04/2026
In this devotion, junior member Moira Schulz shares a personal reflection on loneliness, faith, and the unexpected ways God draws us closer to him and to one another.
“The (not so) Quiet Exodus”
Clear, unmistakable answers to prayer seem rare. More often, the connection feels distant, shaped by the mystery of who God is. My prayers become, “If it be Your will, Lord,” while I wrestle with whether I’m anywhere near what he wants. That uncertainty doesn’t move me forward with confidence—it leaves me stuck, caught in hesitation, and unable to act.
We often talk about “fight or flight,” but there’s a third response: “freeze.” It’s one you may recognize in yourself or in others. Perhaps it’s even something you’ve seen contributing to a quiet drifting away—an unspoken exodus of women from your church.
If I am not as involved in my church as I would like to be, but I don’t know how to be engaged, what am I going to do? Ask? That’s absurd.
So, naturally, I called my mother on the way home from work. One of those tear-blurred FaceTime calls that rendered me a danger to both myself and everyone else on the road. I so desperately tried to express my very confusing and disorienting feeling of loneliness in my church. A loneliness marked by an uncomfortable dissonance between my faithful attendance and unknown presence. A loneliness, not as a visitor or newcomer who begged to be welcomed, but as a lifetime churchgoer who knew their way around a church, just not this church. A loneliness that didn’t feel warranted because in all reality, I was surrounded by brothers and sisters in Christ. A loneliness that felt debilitating to my faith.
I like to imagine God looking down at me with a loving, but sly grin. His utter fool of a child was about to have the blatant answer she so desperately begged for.
The next day, this fool, in a last-minute decision, decided to surrender her Friday night to attend the Women & Worship event at St. Marcus in Milwaukee, Wis. A couple friends had mentioned it to me, and though I had given a very apathetic “Maybe,” I felt a strong pull to attend. Breaking from traditional women’s Bible study groups, this event was for all ages of women in the church to simply worship.
The words of Psalm 150 were beautifully embodied as everything that had breath in that sanctuary praised the LORD. In Word, in song, in prayer, for just two short hours on my Friday night, I rested in the surpassing greatness and inexhaustible compassion of God. I was so fully immersed in the most magnificent combination of his almighty power and quiet tenderness that no space was left for loneliness.
God’s loving and sly grin grew just a little wider.
Jackie Huebner, the leader of the event, closed the night with announcements, including the next Women & Worship event to take place in June. They needed volunteers with a range of skills, including musical talent. As though on an elementary playground, my friend next to me gave me a playful nudge and said my name in a sing-song manner—a rather poor excuse for a whisper. Before we could leave our front row seats, I glanced at the guitarist. He already had his eyes wide and locked on mine, so there was no mistaking eye contact. He pointed right at me and said, “YOU! You’re musically talented, aren’t you?” I hesitated. “Too late. Your friend called you out.” So, I walked over, and we began a conversation about how I play the piano, and he kindly but firmly insisted I talk to Jackie as they are always in need of musicians.
Dear sisters in Christ, there’s no room for a quiet exodus with a deafening, “YOU!”
For those organizing ministry in your church, events like Women & Worship are a great place to start. Create space for women to share testimonies of their faith and for listeners to be moved and inspired to create their own impact. For women to make joyful noise to the LORD. For women to pray not only separately beside, but with and over their sisters.
Be the community that refuses an unknown presence. She wants to be there. She wants to belong. You just have to bring her out of her personal paralysis, draw her in, and help her see what she needs.
For those of you frozen, God is waiting for you with his sly but loving grin and open arms free of doubt and worry. Ask. Go. Be so filled that there’s no room for loneliness.
