Seeking Solitude
... in quietness and confidence is your strength.
Isaiah 30:15b (NLT)
There was a tiny rap on my study door early this morning. It was my son Alex. He didn’t realize I was praying as he entered the room.
“It’s okay, Alex. What’s up?” I rose to my feet and hugged his shoulder.
“I want to show you what Bailey is doing by the fire.” He quickly turned and led the way out.
I followed him into the living room. The fireplace glowed with yellow flames, the light flickering on the dark sofa and chairs. The hushed room felt soft and warm—for a moment. It remained quiet only until Bailey, our Welsh Corgi, saw me. He immediately ran to his ball then brought it to me. By now, Alex had positioned himself on a blanket by the fire. He tried to get Bailey’s attention.
“Come on Bailey. Come here. Come on, boy.”
Nothing. Bailey would have none of it. Not while his playmate was in the room. He dropped his ball at my feet and looked up expectantly. I looked from Bailey over to Alex all curled up in front of the glowing fireplace. We stood there in a silent showdown—me ... and Bailey. Finally, Alex had an idea.
“Dad, go back into your study and peak out the door.”
I nodded my head and backed up. In short order I stood in the study's shadows, and watched from a crack between the partially-closed doors. Within a few seconds, Bailey walked over to Alex and put his chin down on the blanket. I stood there enjoying the scene for a few moments before returning to prayer. I considered how peaceful they looked—lying there quiet, free from distraction, enjoying each other so much.
Finally, I closed the doors on that warm scene and reflected on something Richard J. Foster wrote in his Study Guide for Celebration of Discipline:
“Henri Nouwen has noted that ‘without solitude it is virtually impossible to lead a spiritual life.’ Why is this so? Because in solitude we are freed from our bondage to people and our inner compulsions, and we are freed to love God and know compassion for others.”
I believe it. I think back on Alex’s light tap on my door this morning and realize, it wasn’t an interruption. It was God elbowing me during our time together, anxious to make His point. And make it He did. This was an opportunity to appreciate God's provision and to remember how much I have when I have time with Him. Not just quietness, not just confidence, but His strength as well.
Father, thank You for solitude and quietness. May You reach us and teach us in these quiet moments. Amen.