Strength of Solitude

Tonight while I stepped outside and enjoyed the pleasures of a fine clove, the cold winter air brought a chill of excitement to my rosy cheeks, and I spent a fair amount of time just walking and talking to God. It was then that the great realization that I was all alone became beautifully clear to me. I felt compelled to write on the idea of solitude, and its great importance in the drama of life.

Now, I realize that this is in sharp contrast to my last post on friendship, but at the same time I feel it is always important to remember how imperative it is that we spend time apart from the world, and in a blissful union with the Lord. Now, that is not to say that such things as conversation and companionship are irrelevant in the eyes of God. To make such a claim would be a heinous insult to the very fabric of human existence that has been so blissfully woven by His hands. When speaking of God, we must always remember that He has created all things with the hope that the outcome may be love towards Him. Is that not the very reason why man was first created? We were created in His image not to be autonomous machines, not to be mere functioning devices, but to be creatures capable of expressing the benevolent love that makes up every molecule of His being. Now, we see examples of this love displayed in almost all genuinely good aspects of human life. The strength of it expressed in a relationship with a good friend is what I wrote of in my earlier post. Tonight, however, I hope to discuss the Love that is feel is often vastly more important, yet largely overlooked.

This love, of course, is found in our solitude. Even when in church, surrounded by a fellowship of like-minded Christians, God affects us so because we sit alone. When we drive to work, or to the store to get groceries, or simply when we walk down an empty street, this is when our connection to God is often at its truest form. I am reminded, as I hope I can always be, of the life and teachings of Christ. As children of God and readers of His new testament, we often focus entirely of the time in which Christ spent with His apostles. The parables, the speeches, the miracles, all these things were done with Christ in the company of good men. Yet, what happened after the crucifixion and glorious resurrection was something just as important. At the last supper, before his walk to the mound of Calvary, Christ prepared his brothers for the trials ahead of them. He told them to take any charity that came their way. Instead of being adorned simply with His word and the Holy Spirit, he advised them also to walk steadfast with armor and shield. He warned them that they would be hated by the world, rejected by men just as He was, but that none of that would ever matter, as they would always be smiled upon by His Holiness. In essence, he was preparing them for the time in which they would walk alone.

The apostles eventually split up and preached the wonders of the new kingdom to all the lands of Abraham. It is a gift that they would carry with them to their very deaths. This gift is the same one that continues to be offered to every man and woman willing to accept and open it. It is like a present whose wrapping never ceases to end, each layer discarded reveals another beautiful shade of paper that burns the senses and enlightens the mind. We unwrap this gift much as children on Christmas morning. Our loved ones sit around us, watching, happy just to bear witness to the process. We shred apart the paper with full knowledge that what we asked for all along is nestled deep inside. Yet unlike our childhood gifts, we must realize that as human beings this gift is far too luminescent, far too marvelous for our eyes to bear witness to. We are then left with only one choice; to leave our loved ones, retire to some secret place, and continue the process of unwrapping.

And this, my friends, is solitude. This is our time of devotion. We come to layers of paper too strong for us to tear. Perhaps some string, or some ribbon proves too resilient to our fragile hands, and it is only God who can help us to tear it open. Yet even when He sits right by our side and guides or hands through this, He is always whispering in our ears that the present has already been given to us. It is His pain and His heartbreak that far too often we forget this. Do not be mistaken, however, this does not mean He would ever wish us to stop unwrapping. For just as a parent watching their child on Christmas morning, God watches us in the process, and the joy and wonder he sees in our eyes helps Him to remember that though rebels we may have become, sons and daugters we shall forever be.