What Solitude Taught Me
I wouldn’t say I’ve been a shadow of myself lately. I’d say I’ve felt a gentle push toward less noise and more time offline. I hardly have anything personal to share these days because the ears of those around me have been enough. More than enough, really. God has been the most sufficient, my exceeding joy and greatest delight. My chief confidant.
So, what have I been up to? I’ve been learning to be brave. Every year with God teaches me something about courage, but this one feels different. Little by little, I’m beginning to see what God sees. To let go of my limited view and embrace His lens of possibility. If it’s possible by His Spirit, then it’s possible in me.
I’ve been writing a lot. This year has been monumental for me as a writer. I’m finding my voice, owning my stories, and discovering my language. I’m writing more of what feels true to me and less of what I think people want to read. It’s been freeing. I’m so grateful for words. They’ve helped me articulate my heart in ways nothing else could. They’ve helped this girl who often feels misunderstood offer clarity to those kind enough to step into her world.
If you’ll give me just a few more minutes, I’d love to share some of what I’ve learned during my time away. I know we’ve walked different paths, but I hope something here speaks to you too.
I am learning that we have to be okay with our decisions costing us something.
Your decision to follow Jesus will cost you your flesh. Your decision to be a spouse will cost you your ego, your space, and your time. Your decision to move to a new country will cost you the nearness of the ones you love. But we live in a ‘have your cake and eat it too’ society, where people make life-altering decisions and still act stunned when those decisions actually alter their lives.
And I’m learning that part of the reason we try to cling to the old while reaching for the new isn’t just because we’ll miss what we had, but because we have a trust problem.
Do we trust that God can help us let go, and strengthen us in the letting go?
Do we trust that He can be our chief satisfaction?
Do we trust that there is no God-led, life-altering path we will walk where He won’t be there with us?
It is scary, it is new, but He is the same God in every season, and in every phase.
For as long as I can remember (Grade 11 to be precise), silence has been my go-to safe space.
Feel unloved? Silence. Feel disrespected? Silence. Feel irritated? Silence. Feel annoyed? Silence.
But what happens when that silence starts to affect your intimacy with the people you love? What happens when it becomes hard to sit with God and tell Him what’s weighing on your heart because everything has piled up so high, you don’t know where to begin?
“Jesus, I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired” is a real place to be. A valid place to be. Because life can make you feel sick, with an icing of tired. And yet, we still try to hide our struggles from God.
But He is not only Master. He is also Friend and Father.
Even with earthly friends and fathers, you might wipe your tears before seeing them. But someone who’s paying attention will notice the redness in your eyes or the faint tear line on your cheek. And our Father? He sees even more. He saw you when you cried in secret. He heard the silent sobs. He watched you wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt.
Here’s a note, to you and to me: You’ve been self-sufficient for too long, and you know it’s not working. There is an ever-present help. A well of endless grace and strength you can draw from every second. With God, there’s no “You were here yesterday, it’s someone else’s turn.” There’s no limited visitor’s pass you need to show at the point of entry. Jesus is your pass to the throne of grace. Stop suffering in silence. Stop running. Let God love you in ways you didn’t even know you needed to be loved.
“Train your mind to see the good in everything.”
This quote has been hanging on my bedroom wall since 2018 or 2019, and the word ‘train’ feels especially apt. It takes intentional effort to look at things holistically, not labeling them as simply black or white. To draw good out of a painful day. To experience both regret and relief in the same breath. To acknowledge the paradoxical nature of life.
I’m training my mind to welcome each day with gratitude. To stop waiting for a season to pass before I can exhale and actually live.
There are days I look forward to the coming of Christ with open arms because I don’t think I can survive one more second on this earth. But there are also days when I want time to stand still. Days when I don’t want a single moment to pass me by. I want to savour them; the laughter, the conversations, the joy.
I’m learning to see the good in seasons, in myself, in my family, in my friends. It’s not always easy. In fact, it’s often the hardest thing. But I don’t want to miss the good around me because I’ve built a mountain out of what went wrong.
Lastly, I am learning to be a faithful follower of Jesus.
Being a faithful follower of Jesus goes beyond attending church and programs regularly, as good as those are. And associating with Him goes beyond wearing a cute cross necklace. There is a real cross to carry.
I am learning to loosen my grip on this life and its pleasures because in Christ is an everlasting delight that this world is incapable of providing.
And so my daily prayer is this: Lord, give me grace to daily commit my soul to You. Give me grace to continually do good and not grow weary. Strengthen me for the long and narrow walk ahead. Keep my eyes fixed on You, the Author and Finisher of faith. The One who is able to save forever will keep me forever; help me to believe.
Help us to believe.
A song I have loved since 2019 and recently rediscovered.
