Christine
CBF Field Personnel, Africa/Middle East
“It is in solitude that we discover that being is more important than having and that we are worth more than the results of our efforts. In solitude we discover that our life is not a possession to be defended but a gift to be shared.” —Henri Nouwen
I live in the middle of a very busy urban neighborhood. There’s beauty in this communal life, but quiet moments are rare. Early on a Sunday morning as the sun is rising, there might be a moment of peace; but inevitably, it’s not long until it’s interrupted by a honking car horn or the revving of a motorcycle engine. Days are crowded and packed with people, hollering over each other and the noise around them, buying their groceries, having coffee with a neighbor, picking kids up from school, making their way through the tasks of daily life. People walk everywhere and it’s a place that’s full of life. It’s one of the reasons I chose to live here—to see the realities, to pull back the curtain, to have a truer glimpse of how this community lives.
But between the actual noise and the inside “noise” perpetuated by the stresses of the hardships and uncertainties in the neighborhood and the lives of those around me, it can be like a frog in boiling water. You don’t even realize it’s happening until it’s too late. It can feel impossible to find a space for peace, for stillness, for silence.
What’s saving my life right now? It’s creation. The rustling of the leaves in the wind outside the sunroom of my temporary home; rooftop sunsets at a friend’s house; the stillness of birds chirping outside my window as the new day dawns; hours to sit beside the ocean, listening to the lapping of the waves; the fresh, cool air of a hike in the woods with friends and colleagues. I’ve been reflecting recently on how often Jesus lived and modeled this pattern. Of course, the stillness and solitude and peace of creation are saving my life right now; it saved Jesus’ life too. We see over and over again in the Gospels that when Jesus was sad or grieving, he would go off to be alone. When he was tired from the overwhelming needs of life and work and ministry, he went into the hills by himself to pray. And each time he returned refreshed, more able to meet the needs of those around him, more grounded in his need for God’s strength to sustain him, more able to say “yes” to what God was asking of him, more fully able to love the people in his life and the strangers who came seeking help. May it be so with us.
Pray, Practice Ponder
This week, set aside time for silence and solitude. This may be for five minutes, or a few hours. If you don’t know where to start, begin with the “Five Senses” grounding practice: Find a quiet space, inside or outside, and wake up to the world around you by noticing: five things you can hear, four things you can see, three things you can touch, two things you can smell and one thing you can taste.
