Is there such a thing as too much silence and solitude?
I’m constantly surrounded by people. At home. At work. At church.
Not that I mind. I’m not antisocial.
I’m just an introvert. This means that I enjoy the company of others, but I just don’t like talking all the time.
So, I often withdraw to a quiet place to re-energize. But can too much of this be bad for you?
A lot goes through my mind, and most of the time, I process it alone. I’m a verbal processor, and that can bother other people because they think that I’m expressing fully-formed thoughts when, in fact, I’m processing out loud, trying to reach a conclusion with the listener’s help.
This can come across as venting, so I’ve learned to hold back and keep to myself.
Consequently, I grew increasingly isolated. Not physically, but spiritually.
Spiritual isolation is a dangerous place to be.
It’s where Satan wants us. When we isolate ourselves from the Body of Christ, through whom God often speaks to us, the only voice we hear is our own.
We’re also more vulnerable to hearing another voice: the lying whisper of the enemy.
The serpent who asks, “Did God really say that?”
The one in the desert who promises the kingdoms of the world if we only bow to something other than God.
Ephesians 6:12 says “For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”
When I was a pastor and a missionary, I was fully aware of this reality every day due to the nature of my job, but it seems that I’ve been dulled to it over the past three years. The daily grind keeps me too distracted to pay much attention to spiritual things. I have too many pressing matters on my plate as it is.
The busier I became, the less energy I had to engage other people in conversation, and the more isolated I grew.
As Anne Lamott writes, “If the devil can’t get you to sin, he’ll keep you busy (instead).”
Recently, I ignored several signs of an impending spiritual attack and failed to pray against them. Then, it all hit at once.
Attacks on health.
Attacks on relationships.
Attacks on my loved ones.
I went into a spiral of discouragement, resentment, and anxiety.
But God allows spiritual attacks to reveal things that we need to learn.
I was faced with my recent lack of vigilance in prayer and my own spiritual isolation: I was wallowing in distress when I realized that I hadn’t reached out to anyone in prayer for anything in a long time.
Part of it was due to busyness, sure, but most of this was related to pride.
“I don’t need help from anyone.”
“I can handle this myself.”
This is pride—the same pride that drives some to declare no personal need for God. To quote Daniel Henderson, “Prayerlessness is our declaration of independence from God.”
Humbled and reeling in spiritual pain, I reached out to my men’s group for prayer. They responded. They prayed. They encouraged me throughout a difficult week, and as the days progressed, my anxiety eased into a sense of peace.
I came out of this episode with a heightened awareness of the need to avoid isolation, the need to reach out to one another within the Body of Christ because we need each other. “There should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other” (1 Cor. 12:25 ESV).
We need to remain vigilant—for ourselves and for our community of faith—against forces that we cannot always see.
Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. (1 Peter 5:8-9 ESV)
