There is something incredibly pleasant about spending a lazy Saturday afternoon in solitude. Finishing laundry and tidying your room and reading on the porch with a glass of cherry limeade and finding that, in the midst of it all, that the alone-ness that you once found stifling is now what feeds your soul. Perhaps that's what comes of a vocation that requires constant interaction and conversation - I have now found my refuge in quiet.
We live in a time when more teenagers are having sex than aren't and girls believe that the only way they can be loved is if they are hot enough and self-worth is wrapped up in money and appearance and what they're willing to do, and most days it breaks my heart. Sometimes it feels like too much. And that's why I find my solace in solitude. In these moments of peaceful silence on my back porch chair, hearing the sound of my neighbors laughing and the washing machine running, with the sun shining in my eyes and the tree branches rustling in the breeze, I find, once again, the Hope that everything is going to turn out okay in the end.
