This weekend has been one of divine adventures. I've made it my goal to experience as much of this beautiful city as it possibly has to offer. Part of community isn't just being with people, but learning, trying and experimenting with things outside of your comfort zone. It's how I've rekindled a love for reading and a penchant for being outside...although I can't go without saying that the "Florida winter" has helped spur this on, too. But, as I sit here amongst the trees, birds and things of creation, I can't help but to hear God speak in the silence. I read once that silence isn't quiet, it is actually full of answers. And the more I consider that, the more I believe it to be true.
We live in a world of busy. And, some of that is warranted. We have careers we have been entrusted with, families to care for, friends with which we desire to cultivate more meaningful relationships, ministries with which we delight in serving...the list goes on. But how often do you engage in solitude? Or, how often do you get the opportunity to spend time alone?
When I moved last year, I bought a house big enough for a roommate because it made sense financially and I'm also an extrovert by nature. But in the time since, I've lived on my own and found there's a certain peace to be had in solitude. I have learned more about myself in the quiet moments of my life then I ever could have anticipated. There are a few principal things I'd like to impart on you.
First. Solitude and loneliness are not interchangeable terms.
Solitude to me is a spiritual discipline. A thing that, practiced over time, has cultivated a different spirit in me. There are still moments where I am acutely aware of the need to appreciate my solitude, but also find that I am particularly lonely in such a state. For so many, loneliness is very real and very tangible. Widows without their spouses, parents who've lost a child and children who've lost or, never really had, parents, bullied children, you or me on a less than favorable day. In practicing solitude, you may still be lonely. So, I don't ever want to assume that I understand the deep roots of loneliness or act like it doesn't exist - it most certainly does. But, in solitude I'd like to believe we find the Voice of comfort and healing speaking directly into our lives. In my most broken times, I have been immensely thankful for the people God sent and used to encourage me, care for me and cry with me. But it wasn't people who glued together my pieces in those seasons. They were invaluable, but it was the God of the universe in the moments when I was left by myself, consumed by my own thoughts waging war that I began the process of being made whole again.
Second. Who are you, really?
This is a question I'm still working on. In solitude, I wrestle with a concrete answer often. I think in large part, it is the spiritual warfare that happens in me. I don't pretend to live in a perfect world as Instagram or Facebook might seem to project. Those are platforms where most of the time, we create the person we want everyone to know and to see. All of the fun things we've done, the people we've tagged, the experiences we want others to "like..." those are often small bytes of our true nature. Because as I get to know my true self, I'm not always happy with what I find. I think when solitude is truly used for growth, it is scary. Why? Because solitude exposes the ways Satan is speaking to us, the sin we're entangled in perhaps, the selfish, non-life giving parts of our personality that we hide away from the world. It exposes in our mind, heart and soul the deep places about ourselves that even we don't want to acknowledge. But, if I have learned anything at all from this journey, it's that cleaning out and working on those parts of me allows me to subdue the flesh of my body so that I can say yes to the spirit inside of me. And I guess you can judge for yourselves but, I'd like to think it's made me more self aware, more positive and hopefully more gentle and kind to others. I mean, I don't always get it right so, that's where I ask for forgiveness and some grace. Solitude isn't a destination...we as people on Earth will never be rid of ourselves, our nature, or our flesh until we're called home. But it is something that I truly believe will teach and reveal to you who you are. There are weeds and there are flowers...but, acceptance of me...all of me...has lead to greater self-respect and self-love.
Third. You might enjoy it.
Okay, I know. All the introverts are screaming "Yas!" and all the extroverts think I'm nuts. But hear me out. I'm extremely structured. At work, I measure in color coded spreadsheets, percentages and task lists. My home is methodically organized - my kitchen cabinets by practical use, my closet by type and color of clothing and my movies by alphabetical, color coded genre. I even use Google Calendar to remind me to water my plants. (Okay, that's also because I kill green things even with the best of intentions). It's systematically intense even for me. BUT! Wandering about The City Beautiful with only my own company, its broken my need for schedules and plans to some degree. I've learned what it means to watch families interact and see people as souls with goals and dreams and interests.
The runners at Lake Eola,
The dad telling his doting toddler about the dinosaur at the botanical gardens,
The young couple strolling hand in hand, or the pure joy in the faces of two sweet little girls from China and their incredible momma.
In them, I see stories being written in real time and it completely shatters my preconceived view of what it looks like to do life together, to live in community with one another without prejudice, to love. There isn't one definition of life together or of community or of love. Its a thousand little pixels of a bigger picture...a tapestry of moments woven into each others' lives.
So...in the silence, among the tree limbs swaying and amidst the song of the sparrows above me, I find solitude that is surprisingly full. In it, Jesus speaks. He reminds me that even He went to a quiet place to pray before he sacrificed himself on the Cross. I don't see weakness in that moment where he is asking the Father to provide another way for His will to be done. I see humility and strength, courage and self-awareness. In that moment, Jesus is fully man. And as I reflect on how this parallels my own life, I see myself not as I want to be or even ought to be, but just simply, as I am. And there's a freedom in that, a sort of soul care that reminds me how loved I am in the midst of my messy, imperfect life. And in the quiet, in the silence, in the waiting...I hear Jesus. And I embrace knowing that solitude is purposeful. And that I am far from alone in these moments.
