The LORD appears to Elijah. 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.  Then a voice said to him, "What are you doing here, Elijah?" (1Kings 19:11-13)

About nine years ago, I had the opportunity to attend a full day solitude retreat.  The day was spent with about 20 staff workers, mostly in silence.  The person who facilitated the day invited us into a quiet space, giving us some questions to reflect on, giving us freedom to let the time and space to be whatever it needed to be.  Some napped, some walked a labyrinth, some wrote in journals, some read, some sat quietly in waiting, some did a little of everything. But the SPACE was held up as sacred, set apart, time with God.  There was room to breathe and to simply BE.

I discovered that this discipline of solitude was a love language between God and me. I spent that next year pursuing solitude, looking for monasteries to visit for a couple of days at a time, and taking long quiet drives alone to nowhere.  (This was before the high gas prices!)  There was something that God did in those quiet spaces that made me crave more.  Sometimes He whispered to me, like He did to Elijah.  I could not snap my fingers and expect Him to show up, just because I was committed to the silence and solitude.  But space was being made; new room was being formed in me internally.  I was listening with full attention.

Usually I return from solitude feeling refreshed, even if I have no revelation from God to speak of.  I still seek the quiet spaces and find them to be sacred, holy ground, creating fertile soil for spiritual growth.  Somehow the bright Sun/Son shines through the fog.

In the American culture, we value productivity, efficiency, accomplishments, results, etc.  Taking a day or even part of a day to do "nothing" may seem lazy, pointless or even scary to some.  I have found it to be a refuge, a haven, a respite. May He invite you into a quiet space, and may He whisper to you there. -- R. Rega