A few weeks ago the world felt like a different place.
Two weeks ago Elise and I packed up the kids, with a week’s worth of clothes and a few books mixed into each bag, for a family trip to the Gambia.
My work had brought me here last fall when I taught through the Torah at the Bible school. We had planned, even before our return to Africa that I would come back in March, with Easter on the horizon, to walk the students through the Gospels. What could be better than that!
Because the kids’ spring break overlapped with the weeks I was scheduled to teach we would travel as a family, overland across the land border near the Senegambia bridge. Then, we could spend our days as a family exploring and enjoying the green beauty of the smiling coast before I put on my work hat to teach each evening. This would be a trip our kids would never forget!
We finished the first unit of the course when all schools were closed across the nation. Sunday morning I preached on trusting God, and before the day was over the borders between Senegal and the Gambia were closed.
Needless to say, it was time to wash our clothes, buy more groceries and see if we could extend our stay in the apartment we’d rented for our two weeks here (thankfully, they were able to accommodate and even give us a “Corona Discount”) and trust in God.
In one week, our lives went from global interaction to life in careful quarantine. On the Smiling Coast of Africa we had finally joined the rest of the world in isolation. In many ways it feels like humanity overnight stumbled down a rabbit hole from the vibrant and kinetic and crowded life of our beloved Africa to a monastic family life of solitude and silence.
Like you, I am left wondering, what should I be learning from this season? What is God saying to me, to you, to His Church?
Finding Clarity in Solitude
So often we pace our lives at breakneck speeds.
For the past several months since we returned to Africa we have been preaching and teaching in churches and Bible schools here in Senegal and the Gambia. For seven months we have been in a construction project without stop. We spent weeks setting up our lives, moving and unpacking, repacking and moving.
When we live fast the idea of slowing down to listen to the voice of God seems counterproductive. “Surely, we should keep moving this fast,” we say, “we are living like this in service to God!” It becomes easier for us to gain wisdom and advice from spiritual mentors and leaders than to still our hearts and listen for the voice of God ourselves.
In our rush we put the cart before the horse and are some how surprised when things flip upside down. Emily Freeman says, “While it’s true we often need teachers and mentors to help us take our next right step, my tendency is to rush to other voices before I’ve taken the time to listen to my own voice as it is united with the voice of God. I’ve learned the importance of crafting a vision, or a bigger purpose, in solitude and silence first, then finding the teachers who can help me implement that vision with a plan.”
Even before we packed up for this indefinite adventure I felt this trip to the Gambia was going to be one that brought clarity to our lives and ministry. If anything, it is a wonderful and painful opportunity to find clarity in solitude with Christ, trusting in the God who loves us.
Experiencing Authenticity in Silence
Solitude creates space that normal life cannot. Normal life, with all its built-in comforts and conforming regularity, forces us to cover up our rough edges and leave our motivations unexplored. Normal life pushes us to bulldoze the red flags into the trembling earth of our souls in endless striving.
But solitude, in the words of Ruth Haley Barton, enables us “to experience a place of authenticity within and to invite God to meet us there. In solitude we are rescued from relentless human striving to solve the challenges of ministry through intellectual achievements and hard work, so that we can experience the life of the Spirit guiding toward that true way…”
When we are unable to maintain the pace of normal life, the weeds across the torn up fields of our souls begin to spring back up, revealing the detritus of our lives. Solitude with the Holy Spirit enables us to begin pulling out the weeds by the root and plant new, life-giving seeds.
Solitude reveals our need for Jesus to enter into our redeemed lives and transform us more and more each day. And this solitude is not isolated to the Gambia or Gainesville. Solitude with Christ can happen in Washington DC and Ouagadougou.
Solitude as the Furnace of Transformation
Friend, I have come to see this season, with all its fears and unknowns, ups and downs as a blessing because in the time of quarantines and travel restrictions, I am driven more and more into solitude and meaningful ministry with my family.
I understand all the more what Henri Nouwen meant when he said solitude is “the furnace of transformation,” as I turn my trust increasingly away from humanity and back to the Father (Jeremiah 17.5-10). I feel the incredible and refining hand of Jesus as He searches my decisions and tests my emotions.
We have been given a gift of fiery solitude. A time to slow down and get real. True, a few months ago the world stumbled into this different place, a generation defining moment. Can you imagine how we will walk out of this furnace if the Church will lean deeply into the presence of Jesus?
