Be Still and Know
As I prepare for a very busy Holy Week, I am reflecting on Psalm 46. The familiar and oft-quoted refrain of “Be still, and know that I am God” is a command that I need, that I know, and that I rarely follow. It is so easy to be swept away by my to-do list. There are really important things on that list, y’all. Preparing for classes at church, reading Theology for school, budgeting, taxes (ugh!), delivering my daughter to and from her various activities, cooking healthy meals for my family – my life is FULL. Sometimes, my life is SO full that I realize I have left no space for God. While I am busy researching spiritual disciplines and teaching classes on how to listen to the voice of the Holy Spirit, I am guilty of dropping into the bed at the end of most days without having engaged in the very practices I am suggesting to others. This week, as busy as it is, I am committed to engage in stillness each day. I plan to listen and see what God has to say to me this week.
My favorite places to connect with the Holy are in nature, preferably somewhere that has water. There is something about being a part of God’s creation that allows me to open more easily to the nudging of the Spirit. If I cannot get outside, I choose a picture of a special place to remind me of this feeling. The picture of the bridge over a running river shown here inspired the following poem that I share with you. I hope you will make some time this week to find some quiet time for openness, prayer and gratitude for the gift of Jesus Christ and the love we all share because of His life and resurrection.
I long to “Be still, and know”
But my life is vibrating
Shaking me so I can barely keep straight
The river calls to me
Trickling and gurgling over the rocks
Sun dancing on its surface
Shall I run across the bridge,
On the way from one thing to another,
Casting a backward glance at the healing water?
Or sit by the edge for just a moment,
Staring at the ripple patterns
Listening to the whoosh as the water runs past me?
I will jump into the river,
Soaking myself to the bone
Allowing the river to flow over me and through me
Washing my busy-ness downstream
Emptying me of the world
Filling me with the Spirit
Renewing me to walk more peacefully
In the tracks of the Galilean
Loving better than before