Silence & Solitude Pt. 3
Silence and solitude can offer a path towards healing and a deeper connection with God, mirroring Jesus' own practice of withdrawing to quiet places for reflection and renewal.
Dear Underdogs,
As you continue on this journey of healing, I wanted to share another piece that has been really meaningful to me. This part is all about solitude. I know— solitude can sometimes feel like the last thing we need when we're hurting. Trauma can make us feel so isolated, and the thought of being alone with our thoughts can be scary. But, like we’ve covered before, there's a big difference between loneliness and solitude.
Solitude is about intentionally creating space to be with God, to process our emotions, and to allow Him to meet us in our pain. It's a sacred space where we can be honest with ourselves and with Him, without the distractions and pressures of the outside world. It's in these moments that I've often found the greatest comfort and healing. True solitude, when approached with intention and self-compassion, can become a “safe container” where we can finally let our guard down. It's a space where the external pressures and demands fade, allowing us to listen to the whispers of our own hearts and the gentle promptings of the Holy Spirit. Here, we can process emotions without judgment, allowing tears to fall, anger to surface, or fear to be acknowledged, all within the protective presence of God.
My prayer is that you'll find this to be a safe and healing space for you, a place not of isolation, but where you can encounter the One who heals all wounds and binds up all broken hearts.
—Sarah
WEEK SEVEN: SILENCE & SOLITUDE, PART 3
THE HEALING POWER OF SOLITUDE
Solitude is often misunderstood as loneliness, but in the context of healing from trauma, it is a sacred space for being alone with God. It is in these moments of intentional separation that we can process our pain, grieve our losses, and receive the comfort and healing that our souls desperately need.
ELIJAH ON MT. HOREB
In 1 Kings 19, after the prophet Elijah claimed victory over the prophets of Baal, he received threats over his life by Ahab and Jezebel. He fled in fear, leaving his servant behind, and journeyed out to the wilderness alone. There, he sat under a broom bush, so full of despair, that he even asked God to take his life.
1 Kings 19v4-13: “I have had enough, Lord,” he said. “Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.” Then he lay down under the bush and fell asleep. All at once an angel touched him and said, “Get up and eat.” He looked around, and there by his head was some bread baked over hot coals, and a jar of water. He ate and drank and then lay down again. The angel of the Lord came back a second time and touched him and said, “Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you.” So he got up and ate and drank. Strengthened by that food, he traveled forty days and forty nights until he reached Horeb, the mountain of God. There he went into a cave and spent the night.
And the word of the Lord came to him: “What are you doing here, Elijah?”
He replied, “I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, torn down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too.”
The Lord said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.”
Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.” (NIV)
Then, God gave him directions for what to do next, and Elijah listened. See, Elijah sought solitude out of fear and desperation, just trying to escape, and God met him with exactly what he needed— first, he met his basic human needs! Elijah really needed a nap and a snack in this moment (I think we can all relate!) God provided him rest and sustenance, giving him the strength to physically get back up again and keep going to where God was leading him. He then tells him to go stand on the mountain and wait, enduring a crazy storm, earthquake, and wildfire. I imagine Elijah fully expected to hear God’s voice in the drama of these events. Yet, God spoke to him in a gentle whisper. In the stillness after the storm.
What really strikes me in this story is God’s kindness and attunement to Elijah. He knew just what he needed, and cared for him. Elijah was a friend of God’s, and God didn’t need to shout at him to get him to listen. You see, God doesn’t need to shout at his friends. When we come to a place of established trust and safe intimacy with the Father, through seasons of despair, doubt, fear, whatever it may be, we learn to recognize his whisper. We trust that even though we might be walking through hell, he is there with us all along, gently tending to our needs and listening to our cries.
PRACTICE: JOURNAL REFLECTION
Solitude can be viewed as a "safe container" to let our guard down. Reflect on a time when you felt truly safe enough to be vulnerable in silence. What made that space feel safe? If you haven't experienced this, what would need to be present for you to feel safe enough to let your guard down in solitude?
Elijah experienced powerful winds, earthquakes, and fire, but God was in the "gentle whisper" (1 Kings 19:11-12). In your own life, what "loud" distractions (external or internal) often prevent you from hearing the "gentle whispers" of your own heart or of God?
In solitude, we can process all of our emotions without judgment. What emotions do you often find yourself avoiding or judging when they arise? How might entering a space of intentional solitude allow you to approach these emotions with more compassion, as Elijah did in his quiet moment with God?
Elijah was in a place of deep despair before hearing God's whisper. How does the idea of solitude as a "sacred sanctuary" resonate with your own experiences of seeking comfort or guidance during difficult times?
Consider the external pressures and demands in your own life. What are these pressures for you right now? How might intentionally stepping into moments of quiet help you discern God's voice amidst the noise, similar to Elijah's experience?
PRACTICE: SILENCE & SOLITUDE
Plan a period of solitude this week. This could be a few hours, a day, or even over the weekend, if possible. Choose a place where you feel safe and comfortable.
During your time of solitude, engage in activities that help you connect with God and process your emotions. This might include:
Reading scripture, particularly passages that offer comfort and hope (e.g., Psalm 23, Isaiah 40, Romans 8).
Journaling your thoughts and feelings, allowing yourself to be honest and vulnerable.
Praying, not just with words, but also through silence, listening for God's still, small voice.
Spending time in nature, observing God's creation and reflecting on his faithfulness.
Engaging in creative expression, such as painting, drawing, or writing poetry, as a way to process your emotions.
Limit distractions as much as possible. Turn off your phone, avoid social media, and create a space where you can be fully present with God and yourself.
As you spend time in solitude, allow yourself to grieve, to lament, and to express the full range of emotions that you are experiencing. Know that God is with you in your pain, and he is able to comfort and heal you.
Father,
I come before You, often weary and burdened, carrying the weight of the world and the echoes of past hurts. Thank you for the profound gift of solitude, not as isolation, but as a sacred sanctuary where I can truly let my guard down and find refuge in Your presence.
Lord, just as you met Elijah in the gentle whisper, help me to quiet the clamor of my mind and the noise my life. Give me the courage to step into moments of stillness, trusting that even when I feel alone, you are always with me—a safe and constant companion.
Heal my fragmented self in these quiet spaces. Help me to process my emotions without judgment, to gently untangle the knots of trauma, and to reclaim my true identity in Christ. May Your peace permeate the deepest wounds, bringing comfort and rest to my weary heart.
Thank you for being a God who meets me where I am, who understands my pain, and who patiently invites me into deeper intimacy. May I always seek your face in the quiet, knowing that in your presence, there is fullness of joy and abundant healing.
Amen.