Living and Growing: From loneliness to solitude

Published 2:48 pm Monday, March 9, 2026

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters, he restores my soul. He leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” –Psalm 23:1-4 (NKJV)

Approaching eighty has brought with it a sense of loneliness and isolation. I am navigating uncharted emotional waters: the weight of my loneliness and unease are entirely new to my experience. It seemed like I was walking through the valley of the shadow of death and my soul was in critical need of restoration! I sensed an urgent need to find the courage to confront the underlying causes of my loneliness, rather than run away from it—before it plunged me into depression.

I came to realize my loneliness was multilayered, composed of: becoming an octogenarian; my pressing concern about who will care for my son with FASD and Autism, when I am no longer able; and anxiety over losing my independence and becoming a burden to my loved ones. My personal loneliness is compounded by the collective anxiety of a nation losing its soul to the terrifying normalization of fascist rhetoric, the fragility of our democracy and the distorted religious shift that replaces empathy with exclusion.

“But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.” Luke 5:16

Lent is a journey into the “wilderness” that transforms the agony from destructive loneliness into constructive, purposeful, holy solitude. Solitude is being “alone with the Word,” Once I confronted the underlying causes of my loneliness; silence, prayer, and scripture meditation moved my heart from self-centered anxiety to profound communion with God. In my crisis, solitude has allowed me to identify with the suffering Christ, move away from seeking escapes and empathize with others in their pain.

Lent is a time to embrace the “wilderness”—those spaces of fear, loss and loneliness—as fertile ground for God’s work. Solitude is not merely being alone, but an intentional, chosen discipline to remove distractions, allowing individuals to confront their souls while being present with God. It shifts our hearts from seeking comfort to finding the holiness of simply being, trusting that even in silent, empty spaces, God is present and loving. Rather than a state of despair, loneliness is reframed as a “surprising grace” that pushes believers to find comfort in God and, eventually, to reconnect in community.

Martin Luther views the transition, from loneliness to solitude, not as an escape from the world, but as a confrontation with self and sin. Ultimately, his theology suggests that solitude is not about removing oneself from the community permanently, but to find the strength to return to it through faith.

Moving from loneliness to Solitude requires daily intentional times for prayer and Scripture reading; the use of intercessory prayer to intercede for others who are suffering, and changing our focus from self to God and neighbor; it requires us not to hide from pain or force artificial happiness (cheap grace) in the face of crisis, but instead find God in the “stillness” of the situation; and to treat enforced isolation and loneliness as an opportunity to be formed by Christ in the wilderness.

Gerhard Frost, my husband Larry’s favorite seminary professor, poignantly portrays the inner peace found in solitude in his poem Reverie:

Reverie

“There are times for doing nothing,

But be sure you do it well-

And listen.

For God, in silent spaces,

Has something great to tell.”

May your soul be restored as your loneliness transforms your heart into the healing, sacred, and silent space of solitude. May you embrace the “wilderness”—those spaces of fear, loss and loneliness—as fertile ground for God’s work, as you change your focus from self to God and neighbor.

Laura Rorem is a member of the ELCA. She writes to honor her husband, Pastor Larry Rorem’s legacy of love, compassion and understanding for all humankind, especially the most vulnerable.