Yesterday we (me and my Chris) were spontaneous. I like spontaneous ... but I have to "plan" for it! We called friends and threw out a lunch invitation. They took the bait. The result was pure greatness.
On a random side note, these are "friends" that I hope you are blessed enough to have similar humans in your life that love you, know you, can see right through you, encourage you, don't lie to you, tell the truth in love, honestly ... from the pit of who they are ... care for you ... and make you laugh ... and don't laugh at you when you cry over your Quiche. These are "friends" that should have some other kind of name ... a name that separates them from other friends. These are the hard-core, in the fox hole kind of friends that won't go away. There should be another name for these kind of friends ... I'll work on that one.
Anyway, as we talked ... and they did much of the listening ... our conversation ran like a stream to the concept of solitude. Sacred solitude. A place of being. I think that this time of being tired is leading me to a place of using the tired for solitude.
Because I find God to be a great organizer of events, a few days prior to our spontaneous lunch, another friend gave me an article: What Happens in Solitude by Jan Johnson. She writes:
I've sent out a few emails to those who need to know my heart condition. I've told them I'm taking a break from life. Now, I will follow up that email with a P.S. that says ... my break is called solitude. Here's my goal: afterward, I want to be able to say with my lips and mean with my heart what Jacob in Genesis 28:16 said ... "surely the Lord is in the place, and I was not aware of it."
Still counting ... but counting in solitude,
christina
On a random side note, these are "friends" that I hope you are blessed enough to have similar humans in your life that love you, know you, can see right through you, encourage you, don't lie to you, tell the truth in love, honestly ... from the pit of who they are ... care for you ... and make you laugh ... and don't laugh at you when you cry over your Quiche. These are "friends" that should have some other kind of name ... a name that separates them from other friends. These are the hard-core, in the fox hole kind of friends that won't go away. There should be another name for these kind of friends ... I'll work on that one.
Anyway, as we talked ... and they did much of the listening ... our conversation ran like a stream to the concept of solitude. Sacred solitude. A place of being. I think that this time of being tired is leading me to a place of using the tired for solitude.
Because I find God to be a great organizer of events, a few days prior to our spontaneous lunch, another friend gave me an article: What Happens in Solitude by Jan Johnson. She writes:
But, of course, solitude is not just about warm, fuzzy moments soaking your feet in a creek. You let go of all the work and people-related things that make you feel important - appointments, telephone calls, speaking engagements. Nobody asks for your opinion in solitude. Where are you without those things that support your ego? But in solitude, we are useless. Nor is God "useful" to us. Bernard of Clairvaux noted how we falsely love God "for His usefulness; not for Himself" (Bernard of Clairvaux. Great Devotional Classics Revelations of Divine Love.)
I've sent out a few emails to those who need to know my heart condition. I've told them I'm taking a break from life. Now, I will follow up that email with a P.S. that says ... my break is called solitude. Here's my goal: afterward, I want to be able to say with my lips and mean with my heart what Jacob in Genesis 28:16 said ... "surely the Lord is in the place, and I was not aware of it."
Still counting ... but counting in solitude,
christina
