The saying “just do the next RIGHT thing” has been floating around more often during these unpredictable and tumultuous times. However, during my darkest moments of despair, I repeat to myself, “just do the next thing,” intentionally excluding the word “right.”

For those in the midst of debilitating depression, survival is not a matter of right or wrong. Rather, it is a matter of life and death.

COVID changed the world. It changed me, and the crushing loneliness of my COVID experiences has nearly destroyed me. Over and over and over again, I want to scream, “SOMEONE SEE ME!” It is wonderful to be needed, but it is love to be wanted (Avatar reference) – and when the sense of being wanted – seen – loved is stripped from me, it takes all I have to “just do the next thing.”

I recently attended a pastor’s and leader’s conference (PALCON) in Nashville, TN, and this was the overall theme. It encouraged me to know that there are seas of others just like me feeling the exact same way. Still, knowing I am not alone does not remove the crushing sense of loneliness I often feel.

As I recently told my therapist, what scares me is what would happen if I no longer felt needed. I LOVE my job. My work gives me a great sense of value and worth. I am good at it, and people there – staff and patients alike – value me. I feel seen while I am at work. I feel energized and fully alive. I walk tall while I am at work. I never have a sense of “Mondays,” and I never look forward to “Fridays.” For me, work is life – quite literally.

That crushing sense of loneliness comes when I leave work and come home to an empty house. It comes when someone texts or calls because they need something from me – and when the phone remains silent because no one simply wants to be with me.

That is a major reason I tend to stay so busy on my days off and why I enjoy being a student. Keeping busy gives me purpose – and keeps my mind off my grief.

Yes. Sometimes I cry myself to sleep because the loneliness is so raw. Sometimes I cry myself awake because the weight of grief is too intense. Sometimes I sit with a dying patient and feel envious that their suffering is about to end while I must continue to endure mine.

These are the moments when the mantra “just do the next thing” is paramount.

I once read a book called Fully Alive by my favorite Christian comedian, Ken Davis. In it, he discusses his struggle to get healthy. I remember him discussing his difficulty getting started. Some days, it came to him taking one tiny step at a time.

Just sit up in bed.

Just put your feet on the floor.

Just stand up.

For him, these small steps got him out the door and exercising. For me, during these darkest moments, these small steps keep me living – maybe not fully – but enough to get me through the hurdle.

I remember that I will smile again. I will laugh again. I will feel loved and seen and wanted.

I remember that I will not always hate being at home. I will not always cry myself to sleep. I will not always envy my patients who die.

“But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” -Isaiah 40:31

In the meantime, until the strength of the Lord renews, just do the next thing.

In the words of Bon Jovi’s song, We Don’t Run: “Welcome to the future. It’s a new day.”

But until that new day comes, while the “sky is still falling,” just do the next thing.

PALCON conference videos.

(Inspiring for anyone feeling isolated, lonely, unseen, or burned out.)