Solitude
28/03/16 04:56
I love my job. I love the people with whom I work. I am constantly thinking of how we might change a worship service, improve the work we do as a congregation, start a new mission project, reach out to children and youth, and in general expand our mission and ministry. I like to lead worship. I like to plan worship. I like to work with musicians. I like to engage in Bible study with others. I like to think about God. I am incredibly fortunate to have such a wonderful way in which to earn my living and pursue my interests.
It would not be accurate, however, to say that I have the stamina for 24/7 ministry. I don’t mind a call in the middle of the night - most nights. I gain a sort of pleasure from the adrenalin rush of heading out to serve someone in the wee hours. But there are times, and today is one of those days, when I’m looking for solitude.
I’m looking for a place where the phone does not ring, where the demands are not placed, where I’m not required to listen carefully to another person. I’m looking for a place that is not cluttered with papers and books that must be read and problems that must be solved. I’m looking for a place without deadlines to be met and projects to accomplish.
I know where that place is.
I’ll be frank. The temperature is a bit cold for a canoe on the lake. The ice is out of the lake, but sitting in an open canoe requires a lot of layers of clothing to stay warm. It’s doable, but taking a canoe out for a paddle requires planning, a self-rescue plan, the right clothing in case of an upset, which, though highly unlikely, is not impossible.
Still the place is where I need to go.
Fortunately I have a kayak. When I stretch the sprayskirt around the coaming of the cockpit the enclosed bubble of air starts to warm with my body temperature. As I dip my simple greenland paddle into the water, the natural twisting of my body with each paddle stroke warms my trunk, which in turn warms the air around the lower half of my body. My stocking hat keeps my ears warm under the hood of my paddling jacket.
I’m headed for that place this morning. It is still a little dark, but the anticipation is building.
I was born to work with people. But some times I simply need some time alone.
Alone, my life begins to feel like a choice again.
I am well aware that I have come to this place in my life through a series of choices that I have made. I have pursued particular interests and let others slide. I have made marriage and family a priority and have not invested in financial success. I have chosen to follow my passion in terms of career instead of building my retirement savings. I don’t regret these decisions. But there are moments when I feel that I am kind of trapped in the decisions I have made. I need to develop and maintain the energy to work more years because early retirement is not a good choice for me. I need to pour my heart and soul into this particular congregation even when it feels like they demand more than I can give because I have developed patterns of leadership and of service that would leave gaps in the congregation if I were to stop doing some of the chores I pursue. I know that the “traps” are only ones I have set for myself. I know that I am not really trapped. I have more options than most people. But when I take time for solitude, I can gain the perspective to see that my life is a choice and that I am not trapped. Sometimes in the busyness of everyday living I go from chore to chore because it is what must be done more than because it is what I am choosing to do.
When I go to a place of solitude; when I find a place alone; my life becomes choice once again.
There may be some who are called to a monastic life of great solitude. Some days such a life seems appealing to me. Today is one of those days. But I know that If I simply give myself some alone time I will discover once again that the satisfying work of serving others is necessary in my life. I thrive on feeling loved and needed. But to get to that place there is a bit of soul work that needs to be done. I need to take the time to be alone. I need to sit in my boat and listen to the world. I need to get back in touch with nature and the harmony of creation.
So today I commit myself to the process of simply being and of making time to be alone. I suspect that I will discover, as I have in the past, that the recent times of intense busyness and activity have made me a little rusty at the work of just being quiet with God. I will find my mind wandering back to work, back to lists of undone chores, back to the demands of my usual everyday life. But I am resolved to release these thoughts and get back to the quiet. I am resolved to dive deep into the source of strength and energy for the other days of my life. I am resolved to give myself time for the quiet.
There are strengths, deep inside of me, that need to be reinforced - foundations upon which I can build the next phase of my life of service. But my service will be hollow and my work meaningless unless it is rooted in a deep relationship with God.
Soon it will be time to return to work and the busy pace of life.
Today it is time to be quiet and still and alone.
The words of Frederick Buechner come to mind:
The grace of God means something like:
Here is your life.
You might never have been, but you are,
because the party wouldn’t have been complete without you.
Here is the world.
Beautiful and terrible things will happen.
Don’t be afraid.
I am with you.
Today is a day to be alone in the world.
It would not be accurate, however, to say that I have the stamina for 24/7 ministry. I don’t mind a call in the middle of the night - most nights. I gain a sort of pleasure from the adrenalin rush of heading out to serve someone in the wee hours. But there are times, and today is one of those days, when I’m looking for solitude.
I’m looking for a place where the phone does not ring, where the demands are not placed, where I’m not required to listen carefully to another person. I’m looking for a place that is not cluttered with papers and books that must be read and problems that must be solved. I’m looking for a place without deadlines to be met and projects to accomplish.
I know where that place is.
I’ll be frank. The temperature is a bit cold for a canoe on the lake. The ice is out of the lake, but sitting in an open canoe requires a lot of layers of clothing to stay warm. It’s doable, but taking a canoe out for a paddle requires planning, a self-rescue plan, the right clothing in case of an upset, which, though highly unlikely, is not impossible.
Still the place is where I need to go.
Fortunately I have a kayak. When I stretch the sprayskirt around the coaming of the cockpit the enclosed bubble of air starts to warm with my body temperature. As I dip my simple greenland paddle into the water, the natural twisting of my body with each paddle stroke warms my trunk, which in turn warms the air around the lower half of my body. My stocking hat keeps my ears warm under the hood of my paddling jacket.
I’m headed for that place this morning. It is still a little dark, but the anticipation is building.
I was born to work with people. But some times I simply need some time alone.
Alone, my life begins to feel like a choice again.
I am well aware that I have come to this place in my life through a series of choices that I have made. I have pursued particular interests and let others slide. I have made marriage and family a priority and have not invested in financial success. I have chosen to follow my passion in terms of career instead of building my retirement savings. I don’t regret these decisions. But there are moments when I feel that I am kind of trapped in the decisions I have made. I need to develop and maintain the energy to work more years because early retirement is not a good choice for me. I need to pour my heart and soul into this particular congregation even when it feels like they demand more than I can give because I have developed patterns of leadership and of service that would leave gaps in the congregation if I were to stop doing some of the chores I pursue. I know that the “traps” are only ones I have set for myself. I know that I am not really trapped. I have more options than most people. But when I take time for solitude, I can gain the perspective to see that my life is a choice and that I am not trapped. Sometimes in the busyness of everyday living I go from chore to chore because it is what must be done more than because it is what I am choosing to do.
When I go to a place of solitude; when I find a place alone; my life becomes choice once again.
There may be some who are called to a monastic life of great solitude. Some days such a life seems appealing to me. Today is one of those days. But I know that If I simply give myself some alone time I will discover once again that the satisfying work of serving others is necessary in my life. I thrive on feeling loved and needed. But to get to that place there is a bit of soul work that needs to be done. I need to take the time to be alone. I need to sit in my boat and listen to the world. I need to get back in touch with nature and the harmony of creation.
So today I commit myself to the process of simply being and of making time to be alone. I suspect that I will discover, as I have in the past, that the recent times of intense busyness and activity have made me a little rusty at the work of just being quiet with God. I will find my mind wandering back to work, back to lists of undone chores, back to the demands of my usual everyday life. But I am resolved to release these thoughts and get back to the quiet. I am resolved to dive deep into the source of strength and energy for the other days of my life. I am resolved to give myself time for the quiet.
There are strengths, deep inside of me, that need to be reinforced - foundations upon which I can build the next phase of my life of service. But my service will be hollow and my work meaningless unless it is rooted in a deep relationship with God.
Soon it will be time to return to work and the busy pace of life.
Today it is time to be quiet and still and alone.
The words of Frederick Buechner come to mind:
The grace of God means something like:
Here is your life.
You might never have been, but you are,
because the party wouldn’t have been complete without you.
Here is the world.
Beautiful and terrible things will happen.
Don’t be afraid.
I am with you.
Today is a day to be alone in the world.