See Also

Archive

    Relationships — take a moment and think about all the relationships you have. I’m not just referring to your close and intimate relationships. I’m talking about normal, everyday interaction with other everyday people.

    Out of habit, I tend to buy gas at the same place. I tend to use the same pump — unless it is being used by someone who is obviously unaware of the fact that it is my pump, and has pulled in and is blocking my way to my pump! I have come to know the man who stands behind the counter. He smiles as he takes my credit card, and always wishes me a nice day. It makes me feel good.

    I, like you, tend to frequent the same restaurants. It’s fun, going to my favorite eatery. They know me there. Most of the hostesses, waiters, even the manager, recognize me and call me by name. And I know most of their names, as well.

    I use the same dry cleaners, play golf at the same courses, and get my truck washed at the same location. At each one of these places, I know the people who work there and they know me. I have relationships with all of these people. Granted, these relationships aren’t very deep, but they are relationships, nonetheless.

    Then there are my friends, my brothers and sisters in Christ — a different, much deeper level of relationship. I see them about once a week. I worship with them, eat with them, see movies with them, and even laugh and cry with them. They are a blessing to me and are very important to me.

My life tends to revolve around them and the time I get to spend with them.

    But there are three or four people who know me best, and love me anyway. These very dear friends have heard my confessions. They know my hopes, tolerate my weaknesses, understand my fears and encourage me in the use of my gifts. I love them as if they were part of my family, as if I grew up with them. My life tends to revolve around them and the time I get to spend with them.

    So why, in an article about solitude, am I spending so much space on relationships? Let me see if I can explain.

    Those very special friends, those three or four people, they all have very busy lives. Their families and their work keep them running. It’s been my pleasure to be with them and their families, and even get to know the people they work with.

    But the moments I cherish, the occasions when they change me and I change them, are the times when we are alone together. Just one other person and me. It’s when all pretense falls away, all masks are removed and a very deep and significant kind of relationship develops.

    Maybe the spiritual discipline of solitude is misnamed. Solitude is not just being alone. It’s being alone with God. Maybe, instead of solitude, it should be called, “presence.” That’s really what it’s all about — you and the Great I Am — just the two of you, alone but together. You placing yourself, in silence and reverence, before the Creator and Sustainer of it all. And as you experience His presence, you are changed, never to be the same again. What an awesome thought. What an opportunity for transformation. In His presence . . .