When Solitude Becomes Sanctuary
Scripture’s Honest Portrait of Faith
One thing I love about Scripture is that it never paints a perfect, polished picture of faith. Instead, it shows us the rawest moments of the human heart. We see the highest highs and the lowest lows side by side.
Elijah called down fire from heaven… and then crumbled in despair under a tree. David was chosen and anointed… yet spent years hiding in caves, hunted by those he should have been able to trust. Paul was caught up in visions of heaven… yet carried a thorn in the flesh that wouldn’t leave.
Their stories remind us that living in obedience to God doesn’t come with a guarantee of an easy path. In fact, sometimes it leads us into lonely ones.
Walking a Different Path
For me, I’ve noticed this same thread weaving through every part of my life. In my work with horses, I walk a path that goes opposite of the industry ways. In my marriage, I live with challenges most can’t relate to. In parenting, I make choices that aren’t the “norm.” And in my overall lifestyle, I pursue a holistic, mindful, God-centered way of living that often puts me in the minority.
Being “different” has come with some of the lowest lows — the ache of feeling misunderstood, the sting of silence when support I long for doesn’t show up, the weight of loneliness. But I chose this path for a reason: because it is the quiet one.And in that quiet, I can hear God’s voice.
Deployment: Burden or Refining Gift?
Through deployment especially, God has been revealing so much to me. What many would see only as a burden has instead been a refining gift.
It has brought my family closer than ever. It has given me the chance to follow my husband’s faithful lead as the man of the house, even from a distance, and to see the strength of his God-given role more clearly. It has helped me understand just how much teamwork parenting is. It has helped me sift out the noise of worldly distractions, cultural pressures, and superficial relationships through making me focus on the here and now. It has helped me trace my loose ends back to their true source: my need for deeper dependence on Him.
It’s no secret that deployment is difficult. We take things day by day, sometimes hour by hour. We are tired, and we are ready for a timely reunion. But we know this is one thing our family needs to endure. The fact that we chose this doesn’t water down the difficulty — it affirms that obedience often costs something.
Clarity in Dependence
I’ve had several revelations throughout this season: that my ultimate dependence cannot be on people, but on God alone.A few have shown up for us, and we are grateful for them. But I’ve also seen clearly who remains on the sidelines. That clarity, too, has been a gift — because it presses me to place my trust where it belongs.
The Gift of My Marriage
And still, in the midst of it all, I am reminded of the gift of my marriage. Statistically, we have the odds stacked against us — a union between a man who serves in both military and corrections and a strong-minded and well-convicted woman doesn’t come with an easy path. But here we are, powering through even on the hard days. And I know it’s because the Lord is at the center, steadying us when the world would rather see us fall.
The Ache of Absence
With my husband gone, I find myself longing for things I took for granted — lifting heavy objects, upkeeping vehicles, a comforting hug from my soulmate, help with decision-making and preparedness.
I attempt to enjoy the peaks of the valleys without him, but they are fewer between. No one can fill the gap he leaves. He is the only one who truly understands the life we’ve built together and the challenges that come with it. There are a few who help narrow the gap, but in the end, I’m left with my beautiful toddler daughter in a physically incomplete home.
But yet, even in such incompleteness, God’s presence fills the spaces no one else can, reminding me that I am never truly alone.
The Refining Fire of Loneliness
This loneliness sharpens me. It drives me back to Him, to seek His presence more deeply in everything I do. And in that refining fire, I’ve found the highest highs — a closer walk with Him, a stronger bond with my husband and daughter, and the unshakable truth that His love is not only enough to sustain me, but enough to overflow into every part of my life.
So yes, I’ve come to know the lows well. But it’s in these valleys that I learn to lift my eyes higher. And when I do, I see that every high and low has been part of His refining work — shaping me to reflect the love of Christ in all I do.
I wouldn’t trade these rolling valleys. They are the very places where I’ve discovered just how faithful He really is.