There are just too many voices.
Coming from everywhere, and nowadays increasingly without ceasing or pause.
Red Dots—alerts on our phones—demand our attention, dings and whistles, buzzes and vibrations all pull us here and there, giving us the illusion of importance.
It’s a blissful distraction.
Some of us claim an allegiance to deeper waters. Some of us believe in a well of faith that dwells inside us.
But the voices and the dots, fortunately, give us a lovely, anesthesia.
But then, for better or for worse, occasionally we enter a season or a zone where the voices still and the silence grows, whether cultivated or not.
And in that silence, we hear another voice. The well of faith becomes clearer, and we can see a path towards the better, deeper, healthier parts of our souls.
Solitude may not be natural to our modern world, but it is far more necessary than we’d like to think, mostly because solitude carves out a dwelling space for the God that we seek and run after.
I’ve heard it said that God is a very powerful gentleman; he is the creator and mover of the universe, but at the same time he respects our desire for space, even when the space isolates ourselves from him.
Over time, however, some of us discover that it’s actually possible for solitude to become more natural to us than the red dots and the buzzing vibration.
If for no other reason than that’s where we find our Father.