There is a vast difference between simply being alone, and truly experiencing solitude, which, given most monastic definitions, involves communion with God. Tony Jones, in his book 'The Sacred Way' quotes a blogger describing his retreat to a monastery, and his experience of silence.

There is something about solitude and silence, something that makes them both desirable
and awe-ful. I fear the silence. I fear that God won't speak. I fear what I may hear, or that I
may not hear.

He also quotes Foster: 'Simply to refrain from talking, without a heart listening to God, is not silence'.

Batter my heart, three person'd God, for You as yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend...that I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
--John Donne

I think this is what Donne was driving at:

I have always been afraid of loving God because I feared His fearsome holiness might find me lacking. But for me, for all God-lovers, I know now that wildness comes to me as mercy. For me, His power is a fierce, earth-altering grace.

Neither can I expect Him to leave sin dormant in my heart. To love Him means the destruction of all that is wrong in me.
--the itinerant idealist

jealousy

You know the 'opposite' of the fruit of the spirit list? Or rather, those things which exist when our flesh rules, rather than the Spirit of Christ? Jealousy and envy are indeed among them.
I struggle constantly with the concept that we have NO merits of our own, none that have not been given to us by Christ. And of course, these merits need to be divided into separate categories: that of our God-given talent, of our being created in the image of God, and that of our sinfulness, and our inability to atone for it. Eldridge says that love is a passion entirely unrelated to our merits. I guess I would agree, in theory. What is this insidious idea that we are loved in proportion only to our level of talent, our abilities? If we are competent individuals, if we don't screw up too badly, if we project always an image of success and strength? If we're perfect?

There is a story, written by Max Lucado, (the title is escaping me at the moment), that I think can shed some light on this subject. The people are made of wood, and run away giving each other stars (for achievement of some venture) and dots, to indicate failures. The main character meets someone who has neither! himself being the recipient of many dots. This character begins to visit the Carpenter, and becames sure of His maker's affection for Him. So much so, that neither the stars or the dots can stick to him. He is neither inflated by his own success and goodness nor his lack thereof. And really, should not what the God who formed us in our mother's womb, and who, essentially, loved the entire human race into existence, has to say about us be of far more importance then the opinions of man (whether good or man)?
This is not to say that we should not encourage one another, which Scripture clearly commands us to do, but not to give undue importance to people simply because of some specific skill or ability that person has. Which is, essentially, what I've done. Yes, God can and does use those who have been given great and little talent. But, ultimately, that is not the issue. Believing that His love, Your love, is what makes a person valuable, and worthy of time and attention, is. Brennan Manning once wrote that the love of Jesus Christ alone confers dignity and status upon a person. Yes, that is it! Daring to trust that this is indeed the case!

The Velveteen Rabbit

What a remarkable story.

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.

The Universe and the Teacup

My fourth grade teacher gave me a book, with the abovementioned title, the very last day of class. She writes, on June 18,1999:

For dear Olivia,
who is connected to both truth and beauty--
From your 4th grade teacher --Jan Jasperson--who holds you in this heart with the greatest of respect and admiration.
Hopefully there will be inspiring words to be found for you, my thinker of thoughts and dreams.

From St. Luke's Hospital

Listen in this music-bereft hole: His voice comes even here. There is no place or non-place left without His Word.

Sometimes to listen is part of the pain, is pulling the hurt through the dark not by one's own strength, but his. The cry for help is heard

Though it is hard to hear the hearing. Pain is borne by the bearing of the Word.

--Madeleine L'Engle

Thank you, even then...

151) being lullabied to sleep by a crescendoing thunderstorm

152) tissue paper flowers

153) being waved at by the taller-than-me fields of corn; how polite they are!

154) a delightful kids room with all manner of crafts and books and a piano

155) sunday papers, where i enjoy reading the life section, especially the poetry section, and the strange word definition section

156) having my mom 'model' for me for some pictures

157) watching the raindrops crash off the roofs of our cars

158) "rain, Lord, we thirst for water"

159) a dinner at a couple's house from my mom's church, including meatloaf, au gratin potatoes, homemade white bread, string beans from her garden

160) a kitten named 'Strawberry'; so named, I was told, because she was born when the strawberries were first starting to ripen

161) raindrops on flowers, leaves, bushes of pine-like needles

162) anxiously anticipating the birth of a new litter of kittens!

163) finding out I'm helping to photograph my sister's wedding, not from her, but from my mom!

164) 'singin' and dancin' in the rain'

165) white chalk-like skies, void of color

166) coffee and conversation after dinner

167) the blue tinge all of my color pictures take, for the time being

168) authenticity in writing, in faith, always hoping, always trusting, always persevering

169) our black cat lying in a cardboard box

170) dots of water adorning our puggle's back

171) a broken sleeping plaster cat, designed to fit on shelves and hang off things

172) the way the ground and air smells before, during, and not long after a rain

173) afternoon drives along the highway full of farms full of corn (and wheat and soy and tobacco) with a layer of gold on top

174) Mom mentioning she wanted to plant lavendar next year

175) stacks of books, old ones, new ones, dog-eared, covers falling off, not a crease, the smell of both

silence; solitude

All men need enough silence and solitude in their lives to enable the deep inner voice of their own true self to be heard at least occasionally. When that inner voice is not heard, when man cannot attain to the spiritual peace that comes from being perfectly at one with his own true self, his life is always miserable and exhausting. For he cannot go on happily for long unless he is in contact with the springs of spiritual life which are hidden in the depths of his own soul. If man is constantly exiled from his own home, locked out of his own spiritual solitude, he ceases to be a true person. He no longer lives as a man. He is not even a healthy animal. He becomes a kind of automaton, living without joy because he has lost all spontaneity. He is no longer moved from within, but only from outside himself.

Thomas Merton, The Silent Life