The Blessing of Solitude: Part I
For the last several weeks I’ve been preparing for a temporary professional development assignment at our headquarters office in Washington DC. It’s a great opportunity that’s both exciting and scary. It’s exciting because it’s something new and different. It’ll be an opportunity to meet new people and take on some new challenges. I’ll also be able to demonstrate some dormant skills that I don’t get to practice often. It’s scary because there’s a little bit of fear in anything we do that’s unfamiliar and different. Family separation will be difficult. It will also be a challenge to assist our kids with schoolwork the way I normally do. They’ll have to find ways to get things done without me.
This won’t be the first time I’ve been separated from family. Back in 2004 I assisted with hurricane relief in Florida. In 2005 I was deployed to serve a tour in Iraq. More recently I spent three months in Germany assisting with a construction project. Each of these experiences were challenging. But it was the challenge that made the experience memorable and worthwhile. These periods of solitude have also given me extended opportunities to re-connect with the Lord.
While Paul was writing to the Corinthian church to answer their questions about marriage, he makes a peculiar comment that often goes unnoticed…
Do not deprive one another, except perhaps by agreement for a limited time, that you may devote yourselves to prayer…
1 Corinthians 7:5 (ESV)
The context of this verse is healthy intimacy with a spouse. But Paul also suggests that mutual, intentional isolation from our spouse allows us to draw closer to the Lord.
Previously we discussed the vital practice of drawing near to the Lord as a way to drink from the source of Life. Extended seasons of solitude can provide pronounced periods of spiritual growth. It’s important not to squander them. There are distractions in the isolation. The goal is to be intentional with our time and maintain awareness of our unseen Lord at all times.
Over the next two posts I want to share a few journal entries from the three-month period I spent in Germany back in 2018. These entries chronicle a period of intense pursuit of Christ leading to a season of incredible spiritual growth and fellowship with the Lord. During that time, I felt like I was living the way I was supposed to live–in the flow of His grace.
Because I’ve been busy getting ready to leave, I haven’t had much time to write. I thought these journal entries might be a good filler until I get settled in DC. Though I never intended to share these thoughts publicly, I hope they encourage you in your own pursuit of the Lord. My prayer is that I would re-capture a little of this while being away.
It reminds me that such nearness to the Lord is possible.
May 27, 2018
It’s been almost two weeks since I landed in Germany on 14May18. I’ve never ‘kept a journal’ but have always heard it was a good spiritual exercise. I want to use it to chronicle how God is using this time of extended solitude to form me into His image. I’ve had these experiences in the past, but haven’t journaled about them (and have lost those experiences in the process).
These initial weeks have been hard, but not hard as I would have expected. Here’s a few things that I’ve learned:
- It IS possible to get a good night’s rest and get in the habit of going to bed and getting up at the same time every evening.
- Extended solitude has been a little painful, but sometimes we need pain. The pain is a dull pain–being away from friends and family. But I’m using this time to come to know the Lord better. I’m reading (and finishing) a lot of the books I’ve started and hope to get through this pile that I’ve brought with me.
- Due to technology, I’m able to see Jennifer and the kids more regularly than I otherwise ever have during extended absences. This has made things easier.
- Solitude provides clarity in thinking and a proper alignment of priorities.
- Man can live off of salads and tuna salad. I’m not quite tired of it yet, but I’m a little afraid of what I might turn to if I do (i.e. junk food). With all the running and exercising I’m doing, I think I’m losing weight—which is a good thing. I need to lose probably about 15-20 lbs. It’s now or never, really.
I went on a prayer walk last weekend on Saturday and walked down to Schoss Bebrich. The park was absolutely beautiful and I thanked God for His creation. There’s a medieval feel to the place. A very intentional beauty that wasn’t created to evoke a sense of the ancient, but IS ancient. Walking and loving God has become very easy for me. But then there’s that little voice that says “That’s only because it’s Saturday and you don’t have a care in the world!” While true, it does give us a sense of why solace and solitude is so important (and why our spiritual lives suffer if we don’t get it).
I feel like this time was almost ordained. I think that I would have otherwise never have sought God the way I have—or have had the time. This might have come at a critical time that I desperately needed but was unaware of it.
I’m doing my best to live a life whereby God is the first priority. I feel almost ashamed that this appears achievable sans family and a house to keep up with. This must be what the ascetic life is like—me, God, and about 400 SF of living space when I’m at home.
As far as the reasons for coming here, I still intend on finishing spiritual business with my friends who I left in Germany but are still here. However, my mind is changing what it means to be bold. I don’t just want to give someone a ‘pitch’. I want to give them Truth in a relevant way to them. I want to give them a piece of myself rather than punch a ticket so that I ‘get right’ with God on the matter. Sharing Jesus should be in the natural flow of things—an expression of my innermost part that desires to be known. I’ve had difficulty having it become this and I feel like anything else is just a religious exercise at best. Jesus, fill me with Your Spirit. I can’t concoct an authentic love for you. I can only hope that you fill me with Yours and I can return it. Give me others here through whom we can express You.
What I think is missing is the thing that I had at one time and have somehow lost. There was a time when I felt Spirit-filled. A time when I understood God’s grander purposes and it caused me to smile and love him more. THEN was a time when I couldn’t help but express His love. I feel like this will make a good time to regain that. And after regaining it, never letting it go.
Today was the first trip to the local English-speaking church for a normal service. I met a lot of nice folks, many weren’t American (one man was from Nigeria and another from Malaysia). I even met a few people from work who I think I might be able to fellowship with. My desire was always to find folks who take their walk seriously. Hopefully there will be a few of those that I can spend some time with. Sunday school was pretty serious business. We were talking about Joseph which (somehow) sparked a conversation about the place of routine in the life of a believer. Boy am I learning about that.
I took a walk through downtown Wiesbaden today. A lot of memories came flooding back. Alas, I miss my family and wish they were there with me to re-experience all that I had seen this evening. It’s like a dream (or at least many of the dreams I had up to a year after leaving this place the first time). The sights and sounds and smells are still very familiar.
During the walk, I was thinking about a personal hero, Frank Laubach. I was also thinking about how incredulous I am when he’s referred to as a “Christian Mystic”. What in the world is that supposed to mean anyway? Is that implied as some kind of negative epithet? He wanted to be close to God. He talked to God and God fellowshipped with him and let His life flow through him. If that’s being a ‘mystic’ then he was no more a mystic than Jesus was. And I would be proud to be called one too.
May 28, 2018 (morning)
Praying this morning, I think I finally understand what James 1:9-11 is talking about. Here I am, feeling very poor in spirit, yet, I’m growing closer to God than ever. My fear is that upon my return, I will be flooded by family, friends, and the familiar and lose this closeness that I’ve come to enjoy so much. Jesus protect me from this. I don’t want to leave you here in Germany. I pray that there would be not even a bump in the transition.
This weekend I spent a lot of time thinking and researching whether hobbies are good or bad. I used to be of the ilk that said that any time not spent expressing or in pursuit of God is wasted time–that is, until I found a hobby–one that I really enjoy. I was curious about what other believers had thought about this. Google doesn’t disappoint (well, except for that “Got Questions?” site–that place is awful. It’s like a lot of evangelicals got together and averaged out all of their beliefs and wrote down the answer.) Anyway, the more thoughtful of many theologians said that there was really nothing wrong with hobbies EXCEPT where they become an idol and get between you and God. There should also be an element to giving God glory through it (Col. 3:17). There was one blogger who was particularly helpful that explained how you could test if something had become an idol. And yes, boardgame design had (in the past) definitely been an idol. Forgive me Lord. The reason for my research was to determine if this was a hobby that could be salvaged for God’s glory. For now, I’m still not sure. I’ve got one more to publish–and it’s all done but the play testing. I still think I’m going to take a break. Play more and design less. It’s not the kind of thing that I feel like I constantly have to do. I still find it a fascinating enterprise–even to watch others engage in it. Very, VERY interesting to me. Ultimately, I think it CAN be a redemptive activity. I’m reminded of John Mark Reynolds who made the case that Christians should be creators of culture (rather than consumers of it). I guess it comes down to what kind of things can God take glory in. Does everything have to point directly back to Him? Or is it sufficient for His flock to provide a means by which families and friends gather and enjoy fellowship (as an echo to the expression of His body)? Was He not the Creator? Are we not expressing Him simply by creating? Obviously, some creations are off limits, but what about the neutral? Still need to think through this one.
I remember a few months before leaving for Germany. I was on the way back from work on 565 when I received an impression that said, “I am not found on the highways, but on the off-roads.” I took this to mean, He is rarely found in the routines, but that sometimes we need to get dirty–to find the dirt, get in it, and after having gotten in it, to look up and find Him there next to us.
I was reminded of this on Friday when I was doing my laundry on base. I’ve come to realize that, ever since I was a kid I have attempted to make every aspect of my life as clean, routine, and uncomplicated as possible. This is a huge revelation! It could also explain why I’ve never felt an abundance of Life, as promised. I’ve been holding back–too careful to take a chance, to live, to make mistakes, to learn–too afraid of the risks. God forgive me of my carefulness. I’ve decided that I’m not (theoretically and God willing) half-way through my natural life. I don’t want to live the second half of my life the same as the first half–overly cautious and careful not to make waves, or offend, or enter into a life too deeply. God wants something out of me and He ALWAYS makes an impression. God forgive me–though I can’t believe that you would believe the first 45 years to be a waste. They’ve led me to where I am. They have been years COVERED by your grace, mercy, and patience. But no more. For now on, I don’t want to disengage without my having imparted something of You wherever I go. Lord, teach me to live this out intentionally. Amen.
May 28, 2018 (afternoon)
I hopped in the car and drove out to Finther today to take a look at where we used to live in Mainz. Driving by slowly, I almost wish I hadn’t come. The grass was three feet tall and most of the rolladens were pulled down indicating that no one had lived there before. Someone had spray-painted the place where we used to put our garbage cans. There was no sign that the complex had ever housed U.S. families. The place looked like hell.
I understood that Finther had been used as a place for refugees to live. I walked around the corner and noticed the telltale signs of life. A few folks were walking around. Occasionally I would smell a particularly nasty kind of cigarette smell that I had only smelled in Iraq years ago–even feces. I was incredulous that some of the best memories of my life had been ruined by the sight and smells.
As I finished walking the perimeter I looked at where the old guard house used to be. The guard house was gone, but in its place was a little kid, probably no more than five years old playing in the rocks–an immigrant who probably had stories to tell even at his age. My heart sank. God forgive me for thinking more about my own memories than the people who now had to live there. I prayed a prayer for the kid and his family in the hope that they would know the rest, and reconciliation, and adoption that You offer.
I drove to downtown Mainz and went into the newly refurbished Dom (finally all that scaffolding had disappeared). As usual, I expected a beggar at the Dom’s entrance. I placed a 2-euro coin in his hat and told him in my best broken German that ‘God loves you’.
Even as a non-Catholic you can’t help but be overcome by the incredible ‘weight’ of holiness that comes from the size, architecture, and the deafening quietness of these places. I walked very quietly and checked out each of the chapels before sitting down at a bench. There was probably only a half-dozen people in the basilica at that time. It seemed like a good place to pray. So I did–mostly about family, and particularly about my brother and my Dad’s reconciliation. With all that space above my head, the prayers I’m sure floated heavenward with relative ease. It’s the kind of place where minutes could become hours. After that I left and went home.
May 29, 2018
I had an interesting conversation with Ed on the way home from Landstuhl today. I had asked him a lot of questions that morning about his growing up in Malaysia–mostly because I wanted to get to know him better. Ed comes across as bitter sometimes, but he’s actually a pretty fun guy who likes to laugh. On the way back home, I recalled he had mentioned something about being taught as a Muslim (learning Arabic), being raised as a Methodist, but finally settling on being a Baptist. So, without really feeling a prompting, I pried a little more into his spiritual life by asking some open-ended questions about where he stood on being a practicing believer. Essentially, he took it seriously, though he had difficulty finding a place in Wiesbaden where he fit in–to include the Baptist church that I was attending. I thought it was interesting that he said he needed a pastor that would not mince words and tell him straight up how he was doing so that Ed could ‘fix himself’. (I understood that he was probably not that ‘seeker sensitive’.) I went on to explain in a round-about way that I found it impossible to ‘fix myself’ after years of trying, but that it was Jesus’ job. He agreed. I told him that I took all that stuff pretty seriously and that I was looking for other people who did and would always enjoy the conversation if he wanted to talk. I think we closed it on a good note with an open invitation for further discussion.
Was that discipleship taking place? I dunno. But for a guy who is a perfectionist and is afraid starting a conversation for fear of screwing it up, I felt like I represented Jesus’ desire to speak through me pretty well.
(To be continued…)