Part Three: From Isolation to Sacred Solitude
Over the past two weeks, we have walked through the painful path of loneliness. In Part One, we named the pain of feeling unchosen and examined the cultural and psychological forces behind modern reasons for loneliness. In Part Two, we looked to Scripture, seeing how faithful men from Paul in his cold cell to David in the cave to Jesus in Gethsemane endured seasons of deep isolation, yet God met them in those very places.
Now, we arrive at the place where healing actually begins.
We start by learning to recognize the difference between isolation and solitude.
On the outside, they look identical, but they're worlds apart.
The Lone Fisherman | 1889 Winslow Homer
Isolation and Solitude
Isolation is a state of lack. It is defined by the absence of people, the feeling of being locked outside the room, forgotten, discarded, or left alone. Isolation leads to loneliness.
Solitude, on the other hand, is a state of fullness. It is not about who is absent, but about Who is present. I have found that solitude becomes a sanctuary where God restores and refreshes the soul.
Isolation is what happens when the door is locked from the outside. Solitude is what we step into when we realize God Himself has set aside this space to draw us closer to His heart.
The Blank Calendar: When God Crafts the Wilderness
On January 1st, 2018, I sat down with my planner, just as I had done every New Year’s Day for years.
A few months earlier, in late 2017, God had clearly asked us to close the community theater I had started in 2012. At the time, I thought He was leading me to close it because I was exhausted and burned out.
Normally, when I opened my calendar on January 1st, I would look at an entire year mapped out. There would be rehearsal schedules, audition dates, production weeks, show dates, and endless lists of tasks.
But on that morning in 2018, I opened my calendar, and there was nothing there. It was completely blank except for family birthdays, anniversaries, and the default holidays Apple puts in for us.
I remember feeling so afraid, because I didn’t know what my year would hold. For the first time in a decade, I didn’t have an ensemble to direct, a production to manage, or a set to build and paint.
As I stared at the blank calendar on my computer screen, I felt very isolated and alone. But as the weeks went on, the Holy Spirit began to show me a bigger picture. I realized I wasn’t being left alone or discarded on purpose. I was being invited into sacred solitude; a place only God could orchestrate.
What I thought was an ending was actually the Lord drawing me into the wilderness for unhurried, quiet time alone with Him.
From 2018 through 2021, I entered a quiet, solitary season with Jesus. Other than holiday dinners with extended family, my days were pared down to the essentials: Steven, Asher, Jesus, writing here at Inscribe the Word, and the Scriptures. Looking back, I miss those years deeply. They were some of the most life-giving, soul-shaping years of my life.
God didn’t empty my calendar to punish me.
He emptied it to make room for Himself.
Knowing the Script: Ensemble Numbers vs. Backstage Intimacy
After three decades in the theater, I have found that most actors remember two types of moments after the lights dim and the curtain falls.
The first is the loud, vibrant big-ensemble numbers. You know the one: the big dance routine, the huge solo, the full-chorus harmony, the bright lights, and the crowd's applause.
The second, and the one I hear about most, is what happens backstage. The quiet conversations in the dim wings with a castmate. The little jokes and memories you share with people who become friends through rehearsals. Long after the curtain falls and the applause fades, those backstage, intimate moments often stay with you for a lifetime.
As followers of Jesus, we have to know what the “script” calls for in our current season.
If you are in a season where the Master Author has written an ensemble scene for you, a time to be “on stage,” socially active, building teams, and pouring into the community, then that is where you are called to be. You step into it with joy and excellence.
The problem arises when God writes a quiet, “backstage” scene of intimacy for us, but we insist on functioning as if we are still in the middle of a loud ensemble number.
When God calls us into the quiet, we often fight it.
We try to recreate the noise.
We scramble to fill the blank spots on our calendar, pack our schedules with obligations, and scroll mindlessly through social media, desperately trying to manufacture an audience or an ensemble because the quiet feels terrifying.
To move from isolation to sacred solitude, we must know the Author, trust His script, and have the courage to walk faithfully into the exact scene He has written for us in this season of our lives.
The Lonely Places
When we stop trying to fill the empty space with people, entertainment, and noise, something beautiful happens:
we begin to feel the Lord’s presence.
In the Gospels, Jesus was constantly pursued by crowds, “fans,” religious leaders, and even His own disciples. Yet, Scripture repeatedly notes that Jesus made it His regular practice to withdraw from the noise:
“Yet the news about him spread all the more, so that crowds of people came to hear him and to be healed of their sicknesses. But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.” — Luke 5:15–16
The Greek word for “lonely places” is erēmos. It can mean a desert or wilderness. But it can also mean a place deprived of aid and protection, especially friends, acquaintances, and kindred.
If we are honest with ourselves, most of us fight the erēmos.
Jesus protected it fiercely and OFTEN withdrew there.
Jesus did not withdraw because He did not love people. He withdrew because He knew His public ministry needed to flow from private intimacy with the Father. Those quiet, unhurried moments in solitary places filled Him with the strength, authority, and love needed to pour out His life for others.
This is the very heart of why Inscribe the Word exists.
Those early morning hours, when the house is quiet, the coffee is warm, and it is just you, Jesus, and the open page, are some of the best moments of the day. As your pen moves across the paper, copying line after line of Holy Scripture, the silence no longer feels lonely. It becomes life-giving. It becomes a sanctuary.
When we miss those quiet mornings of solitude, the whole day can feel off-balance. But when we anchor our souls in that quiet space first, we remember that we are never truly alone.
Finding Rest for Your Soul
You might be in a place where you feel lonely.
Maybe your real life does not look like the Instagram feed that seems so full and vibrant.
Or maybe you are staring at a blank calendar, an empty house, or you have noticed the crowd has moved on.
Maybe you have not received an invitation to the latest fall festival, a movie night, or dinner out with the girls.
If that is you, your Best Friend has an invitation for you. He gives it in Matthew 11.
“Come to me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take up my yoke and learn from me, because I am lowly and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” — Matthew 11:28–30
“Come to me.”
Rest is not found in escaping our life. It is found in stepping into His yoke and learning His gentle rhythms of grace. When we bring our empty, lonely places to Him, His yoke does not crush us. It steadies us.
If the script of your season has you in an erēmos type of place, I want you to remember this single truth:
You are not alone.
God is right here in this wilderness with you.
Maybe, like my 2018-2021 season, He even orchestrated this moment just to be with you.
When we stop trying to fill every empty space with distraction or desperation, we discover that the wilderness is not a wasteland. I have found that the wilderness is a holy sanctuary where God meets us face-to-face.
Grace & Peace
ERIKA
Here are some additional resources that helped me during my wilderness season to embrace silence, solitude, and the erēmos.
