For a couple months one Bible verse seemed to be stalking me.
It was uncanny that way it popped up in random places: greeting cards, articles, artwork, and even on the cover of a journal my friend gave me.
I told my niece about it and we began to laugh every time we would see occurrences of Ps. 46:10 pop up.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the directive, “Be still and know that I am God.” I just don’t like to follow the instructions.
Be still? Who’s got time for that? I homeschool three kids, year round. (Yes, we’re still in school.)
Maybe you’re like me and you like the idea of being still and contemplating God, but it falls on your “will do it later” list.
This is a verse I love to procrastinate. Like maybe when I’m 80 and sitting in a rocking chair I’ll finally have time for to “be still.”
When that verse started chasing me around, it seemed clear that God was sending me a message. He wants me to practice stillness and meditate on who He is right now–in the midst of chaos.
In the midst of the oh so long hours of motherhood, He was inviting me to Himself. All those little messages were His unwavering attempt to draw me.
The nonfiction book I’m writing is called The Peaceful Place: A Woman’s Guide to Biblical Meditation. It’s about finding peace in the middle of an anxious culture.
But peace isn’t a place; it’s a person.
In the stillness of God we find our equilibrium. He restores our rest and gives us stamina for our days. He instills courage to wayward hearts and changes the countenance of the insecure.
“Be still and know that I am God,” isn’t just a Christian platitude. It’s the very key to our relationship with Jesus.
Our frenetic culture pushes us to go and do, to hustle and produce. Jesus, though, gently beckons us saying “I have been. I have done. I am.”
When we’re racing through life, we miss the panorama of Jesus’ accomplishments. We forget that He’s our substitute. We forget that “from him and through him and to him are all things” (Rom. 11:36).
The chance to be still is the chance to remember that Jesus is our past, present, and future. We forget how our “real life is hidden in Christ in God” (Col. 3:3).
After weeks of laughing every time I saw Ps. 46:10, I began to take God’s hint. Yes, I need to slow down so I can remember how Jesus is enough.
All those other things I thought I needed to make me happy? Uh-uh. They mean diddly squat. Funny how five minutes sitting at His feet helps correct our upside down perspective.
All I need is Jesus. Take the whole world. Just give me Jesus. . .
