Solitude
Remain in me, and I will remain in you.
John 15:4
solitude
noun
1. a state of social isolation
2. the state or situation of being alone
3. a solitary place
WordNet® 3.0, © 2006 by Princeton University.
No one left but God.
The weirdest thing about solitude is being on your own. I guess sounds obvious, but bear with me. You can be surrounded by people and be on your own. And by that I mean more than lonely. When life is pruned back, the lifestyle, the relationships we are used to are stipped away. The people, the support systems, the habits we would normally rely on to get us through the day or night are suddenly (sometimes brutally) no longer there. Now you are on your own. Going through it on your own. No longer someone else's interpretation of your life, your past, your decisions, your choices, your faith. Just you. It would be liberating if it weren't so terrifying.
It's so much easier when who you are is the product of your past, people, community , phase of life, in away. Then you can explain who you are by all those things, they are the reason for why you are the way you are, why you feel the way you do. And the busyness, the regular pattern of life propels us forward, our commitments compel us onward, leaving no time to...
Then suddenly there is no one left. But God.
And God, God offers an invitation. To be with Him. Some translations say remain, or dwell, or abide. It's more than visiting; more profound than just hanging out. It's an invitation to be with him and stay there, and drink it in, discover what unfolds, hear what he has to say. Simple stuff really. Yet I know for me, a busy life often gets in the way of the simple stuff of being a Christian. The relationship gets reduced to empty (though contemporary) ritual. A cluttered mind distracts and support systems become a substitute for finding my own answers. The strip, the sting and the solitude remind me that there are no shortcuts (unintentional alliteration, but I like it) to a relationship with God.
When I have no one left but God, it feels bare and quiet. But its an invitation. An invitation that I don't often see amid the laundry, cooking, play dough, bills, parenting, marriage, work etc. That I don't often hear amid the many voices inside and out that call for my immediate attention. Will I hear it now after the pruning? That's still up to me, the RSVP is in my hands. I can leave things as they are, lick my wounds and return to the familiar for my answers. Or I can embrace this solitude, choose God in a deeper way and step into the silence.
John 15:4
solitude
noun
1. a state of social isolation
2. the state or situation of being alone
3. a solitary place
WordNet® 3.0, © 2006 by Princeton University.
No one left but God.
The weirdest thing about solitude is being on your own. I guess sounds obvious, but bear with me. You can be surrounded by people and be on your own. And by that I mean more than lonely. When life is pruned back, the lifestyle, the relationships we are used to are stipped away. The people, the support systems, the habits we would normally rely on to get us through the day or night are suddenly (sometimes brutally) no longer there. Now you are on your own. Going through it on your own. No longer someone else's interpretation of your life, your past, your decisions, your choices, your faith. Just you. It would be liberating if it weren't so terrifying.
It's so much easier when who you are is the product of your past, people, community , phase of life, in away. Then you can explain who you are by all those things, they are the reason for why you are the way you are, why you feel the way you do. And the busyness, the regular pattern of life propels us forward, our commitments compel us onward, leaving no time to...
Then suddenly there is no one left. But God.
And God, God offers an invitation. To be with Him. Some translations say remain, or dwell, or abide. It's more than visiting; more profound than just hanging out. It's an invitation to be with him and stay there, and drink it in, discover what unfolds, hear what he has to say. Simple stuff really. Yet I know for me, a busy life often gets in the way of the simple stuff of being a Christian. The relationship gets reduced to empty (though contemporary) ritual. A cluttered mind distracts and support systems become a substitute for finding my own answers. The strip, the sting and the solitude remind me that there are no shortcuts (unintentional alliteration, but I like it) to a relationship with God.
When I have no one left but God, it feels bare and quiet. But its an invitation. An invitation that I don't often see amid the laundry, cooking, play dough, bills, parenting, marriage, work etc. That I don't often hear amid the many voices inside and out that call for my immediate attention. Will I hear it now after the pruning? That's still up to me, the RSVP is in my hands. I can leave things as they are, lick my wounds and return to the familiar for my answers. Or I can embrace this solitude, choose God in a deeper way and step into the silence.
posted by Jo Saxton @ 6:45 PM
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