Is your alone before God in time or in space? Are you turning your back or finding His face? Is it willing to sin or wanting His grace? Only you in the silence decide.
Solitude is the question. We all find that in time. But the next step is crucial, what proportion is mine? Do I plant my own roots or stay part of the vine? It is all just a matter of pride.
How much sin can I handle? How much sin do I need? Do I hold up my flower or prefer more a weed that I spread through the garden in my thought, word and deed, till the tree of Salvation has died.
Then the question no longer is the heart of alone. I am cold as a serpent. I am hard as a stone and my God is my flesh not my marrow and bone and I must reach for a fig leaf and hide.
Before the Father who would be my ‘I am” and Amen; before the Christ who’d be Savior and brother and friend; before the Spirit of life could before me open what I’ve decided I’ve already tried.
Yes, I gave it a go round. Yes, I gave God a shot. But no more than a few yards like the woman of Lot who would choose to look backward and would freeze on the spot rather than to embrace and abide.
Where the Good God is leading though my self I’m conceding in the time that’s receding where I’m battered and bleeding and on my knees I am pleading for the peace I am needing when alone is the end of the ride.