Joshua Tree: Finding Solitude

It was Memorial Day weekend. We had been stockpiling backpacking gear for a good three years, waiting for the kids to get old enough to hike themselves a few miles down a trail. Our eye was on Joshua Tree, a park we’d visited numerous times, but never beyond day hikes and established campgrounds. This time, with no campsites available months in advance, we were determined to spend the night in the backcountry.

Joshua Tree used to be a quiet park. We took our oldest there for her first camping trip when she was one and had no trouble snagging a great site at Jumbo Rocks without a reservation. Over the years word of its wonders got out, and now campsites need to be booked far in advance, and a seasonal shuttle relieves some pressure off the overcrowded parking lots. On this holiday weekend, we were lucky to find a parking spot as someone was leaving at our chosen trailhead. We spied license plates from six different states in that lot alone. No, Joshua Tree is no longer a quiet park.

Or is it?

Our Own Quiet

As this was our first backpacking excursion, we decided to play it safe and take it easy. We headed north on the Boy Scout Trail after the temperature started cooling, but well before sunset. Our goal was to go about two miles and find a place to call home for the night. The girls’ only stipulation was that our site needed some rocks to climb (a must-do in Joshua Tree). Right around the two-mile mark, we spied a good-looking pile off to the left. We departed from the trail and found not one pile, but two with a great spot for a tent in between. While the adults set up camp and cooked dinner, the girls were in climbing heaven.

Despite another group selecting a site a few hundred yards away from ours, we couldn’t see or hear anyone. In a park bursting at the seams with holiday weekenders, our family found solitude. A lone Joshua tree stood in silhouette against a sunset that belonged to us. Sheltered on either side by our natural climbing walls, we spent a restful night under a big, bright moon.

Intentionally Alone

Even Jesus, God incarnate, needed solitude. Surrounded by crowds wherever he went, the Gospels note several occasions where Jesus intentionally goes off alone, or just with his closest disciples. Mark 6:30-34 describes one attempt to allow his disciples rest after their first missional journey. But the crowds found him – and he had compassion on them. Thence follows the story of the feeding of the five thousand. And nestled between this mighty miracle and his equally astounding walk across stormy waters are these words: “Immediately after this, Jesus insisted that his disciples get back into the boat and head across the lake to Bethsaida, while he sent the people home. After telling everyone good-bye, he went up into the hills by himself to pray,” (Mark 6:45-46, NLT). This time, Jesus sent even his disciples away so he could be truly alone with his Father.

If finding space away from other people was important for Jesus, surely it is necessary for all of us as well. We must find the time and place to calm our souls, focus our minds, and renew our hearts. “For you are my hiding place,” (Psalm 32:7, NLT). “He lets me rest in green meadows; he leads me beside peaceful streams. He renews my strength,” (Psalm 23:2-3a, NLT).

Rest for a Reason

And yet Jesus never escaped the crowds and found solitude simply for resting’s sake. He always put people first – teaching and feeding the crowd who encroached on time alone with his disciples; leaving his isolated spot on the hill when he saw his disciples in trouble on the water. The time he was given to recharge, however brief, had a greater purpose than his own well-being. He was filled in order to pour himself out again to others.

Our night in our own private slice of land may not have culminated in a jaw-dropping miracle, but we were certainly better prepared for the crowds we faced the next day. The plan was to meet some friends who had never been to Joshua Tree before and show them around some of the major sites. With cars lining the street at every turnout, and parking lots filled to capacity, we found peace within ourselves that went beyond the frustrations of the moment and allowed us to focus on each other. Without that night alone in the desert, the people at every turn would have been annoying, in the way, and diminishing our experience with our friends. Instead, we saw them as part of the landscape – enjoying some time away from their daily routine to explore the wonders nature has to offer, just like we were.

May you intentionally pursue solitude as you refill your bucket. And may your bucket be in constant need of refilling as you pour it out on others. Just like Jesus.