Solitude and growth

"I've told you these things for a purpose: that my joy might be your joy, and your joy wholly mature. This is my command: Love one another the way I loved you. This is the very best way to love. Put your life on the line for your friends. You are my friends when you do the things I command you. I'm no longer calling you servants because servants don't understand what their master is thinking and planning. No, I've named you friends because I've let you in on everything I've heard from the Father." John 15: 11-15 (The Message)

Once again I find myself considering whether hardship is a prerequisite for growth. A problem that I thought had been solved months ago resurfaced this week. My initial response was one of anger and the urge to lash out at those behind it. This was followed by a need to retreat - if only briefly. I took myself off to the nearest available piece of green space - a cemetery - and wrestled with God. After this the need to fight remained, but my target changed. The problem itself is the thing to be fought, not the people who raised it.

Now, a few days later, I can see that response as a relatively new progression for me. The retreat to a place of solitude prior to action. I suppose my initial retreat was born out of conflict. However, since weaving solitude into my daily life I have moved away from that root. The race into God's arms stems as much from a desire for his presence as for his help. I suppose it is a more mature response.

It seems to me that if we only rely on God in times of conflict the seed is desperation not relationship. Such a seed engenders growth because we see God's ability to intervene and protect. It breaks our independence. But it is feeble growth compared to that which arises from relationship. Time spent with God leads to inter-dependence. A richer experience of a bigger God who is not just a protector. It sounds almost wrong to say it makes us less dependant on God, but I can think of no better way to put it. Or perhaps it is more that it changes the source of our dependence from desperation, hopelessness and lack of self-worth to a knowledge of acceptance. We are friends, not servants. We come not as beggars or refugees as a last resort to flee from disaster, but rather as members of the family confident that disaster has already been averted.