David McElroy

I’m sitting alone in a fast-food restaurant Sunday evening. There are people everywhere. A family with a couple of unhappy little girls. Tattooed men who rode up on motorcycles. Older couples dressed for church. Sullen teens ignoring each other and staring at their phones.

There’s noise all around me. Beeping machines in the kitchen. People shouting at children. An angry manager yelling at employees.

But I might as well be alone. The earbuds attached to my iPhone play music which drowns out the environment. The unreal world of social media on my MacBook is actually more real to me than any of these people are. They’re like cardboard cutouts with faces. I don’t know them and they don’t know me. And they don’t know each other.

We have more communication devices than ever. We don’t even go to bed without them. Media no longer just talks to us. Our most popular media is “social media.” These are the choices we’re making.

So why do so many feel so alone? Why is real human intimacy harder to find than ever — especially from the people who are supposed to know us best?

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I’m driven tonight by a restlessness which has no name.

I’m looking for something, but I can’t remember what I’m looking for. I’m trying to fill a hole, but I can’t look into the hole to see what’s missing. There’s something priceless which is almost within my grasp, but it disappears when I turn to take it as my own.

As I left dinner, I couldn’t bring myself to go home. Whatever I needed — whatever I was looking for on this restless night — was not there. I was hungry, but it wasn’t for food. I was thirsty, but it wasn’t for water or any drink.

My soul was crying out in a silent scream which I couldn’t put into words but which overwhelmed me like a storm on the inside trying to break out of my raging heart.

I drove north on a small two-lane road out into the country. There were a few houses but no other signs of development. Everything was dark except for my headlights and the bright full moon above me.

And like an ancient sailor who was driven by the wails of sirens he couldn’t resist, I wanted to reach out for the moon. Surely what I seek must be there.

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