Isolation

I am a big believer in community and ‘doing life’ with others in a way that spurs on and encourages. But the concept of sharing everything with everyone is one that I struggle with, because it makes our suffering a community event.

There are times when this is necessary and helpful, and I would in no way wish to discourage this. However, there is a danger that it could welcome the kind of support that encourages us to dwell on the struggle and remain there. Somehow the kindness, help, love and sympathy start to outweigh the difficulty of the struggle. We choose to remain there for much longer than we need to because, let’s face it, we like the attention. I would even go as far as to say that for some of us, we lose sight of who we are without our suffering, and it begins to define who we are. 

The interesting thing about soaring on thermals is that it cannot be a community event. The bird cannot be placed on the thermals by others. It cannot find that place of gliding effortlessly above by others putting it there; it needs to do it alone. It has to make a decision to rise above, to let go, to be carried by the current. Finally, the bird can see the bigger picture. It’s a place of fresher cleaner air, and it’s a place of isolation. 

We don’t tend to like the concept of isolation. We think it must equal lonely, abandoned and forsaken. But there is safety in the solitude. It is in the isolation that we find where and to whom we truly belong. The isolation of riding the thermals is one of deep trust and surrender, especially after being kicked out of the nest repeatedly in order to learn how to fly in the first place! But it is in the bird’s nature to allow that thermal to carry it high above, where it can sit there, wings spread open, carried by the heated air of the situation below. 

I believe this is a principle that we can learn from. Everything in our nature wants to go the way the world suggests is best - focussing on the problem situation. We want to know that our problem is seen as valid, and that our victim status is affirmed. We sit in self-pity and allow the circumstance to be sovereign over us. 

But maybe God wants us to take our situation not to the public place, but to the secret place; to focus on him, not it, and to find our support, our identity, our joy and our peace in him, rather than our support network. Maybe we shouldn’t be looking to validate our victim status as much as our status as a child of God. Maybe we need to allow the isolation to be the place of safety, perspective and clarity. 

Decide today not to despise the quiet, isolated places, but rather to expect to find God in them.