A Peaceful Lent: Solitude // Abby King Writes

Let's connect!

Hello friends!
Please enjoy the final part of my series, A Peaceful Lent.
To find out how to win a copy of A Mindful Silence, by Phileena Heuertz, just keep reading... 

 When sorrow comes crashing over us like a wave, what we really want is someone who will be with us. We want someone who will stay; someone who will have the courage to bear witness to our pain. We want someone who will make space in their lives for us, who will hold us steady until the wave subsides.
 
When my Nana died, some of my closest friends, for one very good reason and another, could not be there for me. Their hands were already too full with grief of their own. It was entirely understandable. It was nobody’s fault. But still, it hurt like hell.
 
///
 
“My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.
Stay here and keep watch with me.”
Matthew 26:38
 
Jesus, in one of the most traumatic moments of his life, did what every good therapist would advise. He communicated clearly how he felt and asked for what he needed from his friends. But his friends were unable to give it. While he sweat blood and prayed through tears, they slept. It wasn’t malicious or intentionally hurtful; they simply didn’t have the capacity to hold space for Jesus. They didn’t have the strength to help carry his burden.
 
“Could you not watch with me one hour?”
 
The question betrays Jesus’ hurt and disappointment. Right when he needed them most, his friends abandoned him. Emmanuel, God who came to be with us, stares into the face of his own death alone.
 
///
 
Solitude immediately conjures images of isolation and loneliness. As Brené Brown always says, we are hardwired for love and belonging, so the thought of being left alone can terrify us. Admitting we feel lonely can also feel like we’ve failed; like we somehow weren’t lovable enough to have lots of friends; like we’re unwanted; like we must be defective in some way. Loneliness can feel like you’re pressing your nose up against the window pane, left outside the party while everyone has fun without you.
 
But in truth, every one of us experiences loneliness at some point. We live in a broken world where sometimes our friends can’t be there for us, or our families don’t understand us in the ways we wish they would. Ever since Eden, we have lost the perfect communion with God, ourselves and others that we were created for. And some days it hurts like hell.
 
Richard Rohr suggests the cure for loneliness is solitude. It seems paradoxical, if not faintly ridiculous. Surely if I’m feeling lonely, I should seek out the company of others? Sometimes this is exactly what I need. But sometimes it’s not.
 
A wise friend of mine says that when we are experiencing loneliness, we need to stop and explore what exactly it is we are lonely for. Is it for God, for myself, or for others?
 
If I try to cure my feelings of loneliness for God, or for myself by spending time with others, it compounds, rather than eases, my sense of isolation. I need to reconnect with the deepest parts of myself, that place where I can hear the voice that calls me beloved, the voice that calls me home, as Henri Nouwen would put it. And for that, I need solitude.
 
///
 
If stillness invites us to face our limitations and silence invites us to face our emotions, then solitude is an invitation to face ourselves.
 
We are so often defined by our roles in relation to others. I am a daughter, a friend, someone’s teacher; a sister, an aunt, a colleague. All these things are good and healthy, but they are not my core identity. Barbara Brown Taylor writes, “you are God’s child first. That is no role. That is who you most truly are. That is where your true peace and security lie.”
 
In setting aside regular time for solitude, I can unhook myself from the needs, expectations or approval of others. I can re-centre myself and tune into the voice of God. In solitude, I find that I am able to root my identity in the unconditional love of the Trinity, who delight in me.
 
Jesus followed this pattern throughout his life, often going off to solitary places to pray. He was deeply rooted in the love of his Father. So, although it still hurt when his friends couldn’t be there for him, he didn’t crumble. Instead, he was so sure of his identity, that he made his way through the torture of the cross and out into the glory of the resurrection so that we can find our way home to the Father too.
 
Practice
 
Think about how you might make space for solitude over the coming week. Perhaps it might help to turn your phone off at certain points during the day. Maybe you need to arrange some childcare. Or go for a walk by yourself. Take some time out and see what Jesus might have to say to you about how he sees you.
 
Scriptures and quotes to reflect on:
 
Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed. Luke 5:16
 
Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord. Psalm 27:14
 
“Without solitude it is virtually impossible to live a spiritual life. Solitude begins with a time and place for God, and for him alone. If we really believe not only that God exists but also that he is actively present in our lives – healing, teaching, and guiding – we need to set aside a time and space to give him our undivided attention.” Henri Nouwen

Thank you so much for joining me this Lent! I hope you've enjoyed the chance to reflect on stillness, silence and solitude.
If you would like to be in with a chance of winning a copy of Mindful Silence, by Phileena Heuertz, all you need to do is make sure you're signed up to my regular mailing list by clicking the button below.
A  winner will be selected at random and I will let you know who that is by Easter Sunday.