Silence and Solitude: Learn to Love Down Time

Embracing what the Bible has to say about rest.

A few weeks ago, I texted my husband around lunchtime. The text read, “This morning was exactly what I needed. Time alone in an empty house. No TV or music, just quiet. I feel so much better!”

The text came after a full week. My head had been feeling heavy and lethargy swept over my body. The rain, followed by hot temperatures, wreaked havoc on my sinuses. The changes in barometric pressure created heaviness behind my eyes and all I desired was to sleep.

We had also experienced the expected death of a family member. While I was not overcome with waves of grief, there was still sadness mixed with relief, arrangements to make, and a celebration of life to coordinate. 

I also spent time with my two little granddaughters several days in a row. They brought so much fun and joy, but also a toll on my body from toting them around and taking care of their needs.

We all carry and process exhaustion in diverse ways. 

For me lately, I have carried mine in my head and in my body. And rest came through a morning of silence and solitude.

Is rest a spiritual practice?

Absolutely it is. And it takes discipline and maturity. We first learn about rest from God in Genesis 1-2.

“God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the sixth day. Thus, the heavens and the earth were completed in all their vast array. By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so, on the seventh day he rested from all his work.”

For centuries, followers of God have called this seventh day our sabbath. A day of rest.

For many of us, taking a day of rest seems like a luxury. An impossibility. There is too much to do, too many people or tasks to take care of, too much responsibility.

Author and Spiritual Director Ruth Haley Barton describes our general state of being like this. “We are like a jar of river water all shaken up. What we need is to sit still long enough that the sediment can settle, and the water can become clear.”

That’s why the practices of silence and solitude are radical, she says. Because they challenge us on every level of our existence. In Western culture, we cannot imagine what it would feel like to enter a time of unproductive being and listening.

That is the counter-cultural aspect of the wisdom of God. 

A day of rest gives us what we need to be creative with our life the other six days.

Author Christopher Heuertz writes that sometimes silence can be downright exhausting, but in a good, productive way.

“With practice, come moments of breaking through the internal chaos. I experience the grace of letting go of my insecurities about not being in control, of my pains and discomforts, of even the new, intriguing thoughts churning through my mind. And then I find love. Love from God and for God. Love from myself and for myself. Love from others and for others.”

For me, my morning of rest was a chance to refresh and recalibrate. To be reminded of my identity and to reclaim my purpose. It was a chance to step out of the chaos and to-do list and trust God to care for my soul.

And he responded as he promised in Matthew 11:28. “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”

It was exactly what I needed. And so, I am anticipating my next time of silence and solitude. I came upon this question that I long to think about, to investigate, to see what surfaces.

What does my heart really, truly, want?

I encourage you to do the same. My prayer is that the process of wrestling with this question in silence and solitude will lead you on an adventure with God that brings you rest. 

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Beth Bramstedt is the Church Life Pastor at Christian Fellowship.