Sometimes we must take the most important journey’s in isolation; alone except for the experience itself.

I desperately want someone to see the anguish of my soul, for to walk alone in that kind of anguish creates an anguish all its own.

Certainly, I can choose to live in isolation. But therein lays the great rub; in doing so I have in reality chosen not to live.

Being alone is that sense of abject isolation in the midst of our most grievous pain. Yet, if the former is swept away by the presence of God, then the latter stands ready to be healed by the hand of God.

The very places that we presume God not to be are the very places that are filled with His footprints and littered with His fingerprints.

My fear of standing alone often pressures me to stand with a rather unsavory group that embraces a rather unsettling belief system which leaves me wondering why I left the promises of God for the company of people.

In the deepest darkness God tenderly grasps my hand and whispers that darkness is nothing more than a place that He is preparing for the arrival of light.

Defense mechanisms protect us. Fortresses isolate us. And far too often we begin with the former and end up constructing the latter.

It might behoove us to realize that isolation is the absence of all the senseless clutter, and all the incessant racket that would keep God from having ample room to show up and sufficient silence to be heard. Therefore, isolation may actually be the place where we are least isolated.