David Lorenz Winston, "Solitude"
Solitude. That rare commodity. In the rush and whirl that is mothering and homeschooling, I am surrounded by people all day. Precious people, yes. But my deep-of-deeps yearns for that uncommon thing: solitude.
In dark hours past midnight in our sleeping house, I breathe in the aloneness, knowing all the while that the dawning will birth an exhausted mother and teacher. Yet those few moments "scratched in the dark," as Ann Voskamp writes, somehow refresh my soul, re-energizing me to face another day surrounded by people, people I love.
As a borderline introvert/extrovert, I need people in my life, thrive on having people in my life. Yet the introvert side of me yearns for the holy ground of time apart, time alone.
Time to let thoughts flow, perhaps flow from mind to pen to paper.
Time to bask in quiet rather than drown in noise.
Time to listen with keen soul rather than talk.
Time to meditate, to turn mind to things eternal.
Time to turn ear and heart to Him who holds me in the palm of His hand.
But in the busy-ness of common days, minutes and hours slip through time and space, disappearing from present into past -- unstoppable. Voices, sounds, noise distract, drowning the calm core of being where serenity and solitude dwell, blessed by the Hand of God.
I long for abbey or monastery -- just for a few days. A few days of silence, of prayer, of allowing the calm core to emerge in safety, protected by walls and prayer and Word.
The Beauty of Word who lives in noise and in silence, in crowd and in solitude, Who meets us wherever, whenever. We only have to ask.