I read an interesting
quote the other day concerning solitude. It was taken from Richard Foster’s
book, Celebration of Discipline, which said, “We must go away from
people so that we can be truly present when we are with people.” I certainly could identify with that
idea. As a wife and mother there were
moments when I needed to get away, if only for a minute or twenty, to breathe
deeply, relax and allow the Spirit to bring me peace. Even in that short time, I felt better and
was able to resume household responsibilities and appreciate those around me
with a refreshed attitude. Consequently,
this quote brought to mind my variety of “quiet places”, places where I would
go to be alone to complain, to think, to pray.
Three distinct places came to mind in my childhood. A
closet was the first. Whenever I became
upset with my parents or my older brother, I would hide in my closet and
usually complain to Jesus how unfair everyone was. Once my pity party ended, I
would leave my complaints there and resume my childlike ways, forgiving and
forgetting the cause of my complaints. A
tree in our front yard was my second hideaway.
As soon as I could master climbing it, I would spend hours in “my” tree
playing make believe tales and watching the neighborhood’s activities within
the confines of my tree’s branches. My
third special place was a bit dangerous as it was located in a cubby space on
the roof of our house. I climbed our TV antennae to reach it, but I felt very
protective under its eaves. All three of these places brought me comfort and
unique refreshment during my younger years.
Then, when I left home for college, I found two,
rather unusual solitary spots. One was
located in the college’s library on the third floor in the reserve room. I
don’t recall how I discovered that place, but I instantly claimed it because it
was quiet, usually vacant, and contained windows. Another area I found seclusion was in the
small backyard of the sorority house where I lived for three years. Many times
in order to remove myself from social “drama” as well as other collegiate
pressures, I would find peace leaning against an old tree, glancing to the sky,
and praying to my Father above. Being
alone in these two places with the freedom to pray, to think, and to relax
provided inner strength to return to whatever awaited me.
After becoming a wife and a mother, I discovered I had
to arrange my quiet places around my family’s schedules. For example, when I
had to wait for my children after school or piano lessons, or sport practices,
I utilized the “alone” time in the car to write, to read, or even to drink a
Pepsi, but the silence was welcomed and appreciated. Consequently, when the
kids began filling up the car, I was re-energized to listen to their stories.
(Those were cherished times.) Another
site where I would sneak away from the busyness of the house was the shelter
belt around our farmstead. I’d walk
among the trees or sit on a dead tree stump and share all kinds of stuff with
Jesus. Sure enough, the companionship of
the Spirit, the freshness of the air, and the peacefulness of the quiet
equipped my soul to re-enter the challenges of daily life.
Today, I still need my quiet place. Even though our family is grown and it’s only
my husband and I at home, there’s something about being alone, at least for a
short period of time that I require.
More than anything I need it for spiritual rest and renewal. Perhaps that’s why I enjoy walking, what I
call, the quarter-mile road. A quarter
of a mile from our farmstead runs a heavily traveled country road so mostly in
the evenings, I find walking to that road and back good exercise, physically,
mentally, and spiritually. During that
walk I can shout or laugh or sing and only God and His nature hear me. What
relief springs throughout my soul!
Finally, the quiet spot that I thoroughly enjoy,
especially during the warm, mild months, is sitting in my car along the curb of
the city park. I roll down my windows. I
hear sweet sounds of children playing; I hear sounds of travel and normal,
routine life in the distance; I hear soft echoes of birds and sometimes
squirrels chasing each other between trees and shrubs. In those sounds I find a
quiet joy reflecting on past memories, present activities, and future
dreams. It’s a place of peace, a place
where my spirit can commune with the Holy Spirit and recharge to face whatever
circumstance lies before me.
Even though, at times, I feel guilty and maybe even
selfish for having this need to be alone, I should not because even Jesus had
to be alone at times. There are many
references in the Gospel that speak of Jesus departing to be alone so He could
speak to the Father. One of them occurs
in John 6:15 where Jesus had just finished feeding the five thousand. “Therefore when Jesus perceived that they
were about to come and take Him by force to make Him king, He departed again (emphasis added) to the mountain
by Himself alone.” Another reference of
Jesus needing to get away is from Matthew 14:23, “And when He had sent the
multitudes away, He went up on the mountain by Himself to pray. Now when
evening came, He was alone there.” Occasional
solitude benefits everyone. Whether it’s
a favorite place or an image in one’s imagination, solitude provides a unique
sense of being which enables us to appreciate the life that lies before us. Where is your “quiet place”?