I like to spend time alone. I’m not necessarily a hermit, but I certainly have the makings of one. You might say that, under the right circumstances, I’m a bit of an “Old Hermit Starter Kit.”

Don’t get me wrong; I love people, and I value my relationships. It’s just that there are times in my life when I really want to be left alone.

While isolation and solitude can be healthy (more on that tomorrow), there is no substitute for life-giving relationships.

A few months ago, I attended an event called 2 Days with Rob Bell in Laguna Beach, California. There were about one hundred of us in attendance, and the setting was designed to be small and intimate.

In spite of the event’s size and structure, I was still trying to remain somewhat invisible. I enjoy anonymity in a crowd of strangers.

However, in spite of my best efforts to avoid personal interaction, there was a moment during one of the sessions when I felt like I needed to raise my hand and ask a question (I have written elsewhere about what happened when I asked my question, and I will repost it on this blog later this week). And, in asking my question, I drew attention to myself.

When the session broke for dinner, a guy named Mike came over and introduced himself to me and invited me to get dinner with himself and a few other people who were attending the seminar.

Mike told me that he had wrestled with some of the same questions I had raised during the session, and he wanted to talk with me a little more.

So I broke my code of anonymity and went to dinner with the group.

This was the single best decision that I made during my entire trip to Laguna Beach. Not only was the conversation interesting and the beer delicious, but it actually helped me work through some of the major questions I had been struggling with.

It is an amazing thing to learn that you are not alone—that there are other people in this world who are asking the same questions as you are, who have been just as confused and disoriented as you feel.

I have stayed in touch with those guys since returning from Laguna Beach, and they have continued to encourage me from all over the continent.

So to Mike, Chris, Greg, and Ty: Thank you for forcing me out of my anonymity.

As it happens, one of the guys in this story made a video about this very thing: the value of human connection, and it’s very good. You can watch it below.

Do you struggle to open yourself to new connections? Why do you think it’s so difficult for us to engage with other people in our lives?

ALSO: You can find Mike’s blog at www.mikemchargue.com, and you should totally read it, because this guy is wicked smart.

As I sit here in my home office, my children are bothering me. I can barely get a sentence to complete itself without being brought a random object (a book, a blanket, a Pez dispenser, a spoon, etc.) and being told what the object is (“It’s a spoon!” “It’s a blanket!” etc.).

It’s pretty difficult to get any work done.

However, every once in a while I look over at my three-year-old son and my sixteen-month-old daughter playing on the floor in my office, and I smile.

I smile because I know that this moment is unlike any other that will ever be, and someday I will look back on days like today and wish I could go back.

Yes, I would like to be more productive, and no, I don’t think every single moment of parenthood is dripping with sentiment. Not all moments are precious (temper tantrums, for example). However, the moments that are worth remembering rarely present themselves as such; instead, they quietly sneak up on us, allowing us to live within them if we choose to do so.

For the past two months, I have not had a job to go to in the mornings. While that reality comes with its own challenges and fears, it also comes with a few gifts. One of those gifts is that my children play in my office while I’m trying to work.

There may come a day when I leave the house every morning to travel to an office away from my family, and these moments will be gone. So I choose to push through the minor irritation of slow productivity and celebrate the wonder of these two children who want nothing more than to play in my office.

There are moments when I battle doubt—doubt in my calling, doubt in my education, doubt in my understanding of the world. However, there are things that, even when I doubt, I still know to be true.

One of those truths that I cannot shake is that life must be celebrated and enjoyed. The moments that we have on this earth are valuable and finite.

In the book of Ecclesiastes, this writer has been going on and on about how brief life is, and much of what he says sounds like despair. However, every once in a while, the writer will remind his readers to enjoy life. For example, in chapter 9, he writes-

Go, eat your food with gladness, and drink your wine with a joyful heart, for God has already approved what you do. (Ecclesiastes 9:7)

This kind of statement pops up over and over again throughout the book.

The writer of Ecclesiastes is saying to us: Don’t forget how precious your days are, and with that understanding, enjoy your life.

Every once in a while, take a silent moment, breath deeply, and remind yourself that you are alive.

Enjoy a delicious meal, appreciating what a gift it is that food can taste so good.

Look at your children and give yourself permission to feel overwhelmed with wonder.

Spend time with people who fill your soul, and be grateful that they are in your life.

Look at your spouse and be grateful that someone wants to spend the rest of his or her life with you.

Life is a gift.

May we all be grateful to have received it.

When are you most able to celebrate and enjoy your life? What advice would you give to someone who struggles to enjoy life?