Being Still

Be still. In my elementary school days at St. Mary’s those words or variations of those words were frequently directed at me. Like the majority of grade school boys I knew instinctively I was not wired to be still, or remain in my desk, or able to remain contained in any way at any time. The funny thing was I was the only one who seemed to know how I was wired. Being still seemed like a logical request from the majority of teachers I ran into during those long ago days.

Be still. Today I see it more clearly. The act, or command to be still indicates something of importance is about to occur and I must be ready to absorb that moment. In the daily commotion of life, one task at hand, interrupted by dozens of more and equally pressing tasks, followed by a myriad of other distractions, makes being still elusive. Being still has become obsolete in our present day.

Be still and know. If I ever can be still for long enough I will know. How can I ever be still? The car needs a lower ball joint, I have to work, I need to see the doctor, someone needs to be dropped off, and someone needs to be picked up, dinner, shopping, mowing, laundry, exercising, cleaning, phone calls, emails, bills to be paid all need to be responded to. Be still and know what? I don’t have the time to be still, does that means I will never know?

Be still and know I am God.
Only in the stillness of my heart, only in the stillness of my soul will I know God. The magnitude of being still only occurs in stillness. I know my wife will proof read this and tell me the last sentence doesn’t make sense, I will leave it in anyway. In the cacophony of our days stillness is drowned out, knowing is replaced by wishing, wanting, and hoping. It doesn’t have to be this way. The psalmist teaches stillness, in the quieting and calming of our selves, we can know God. Stillness is deliberate, knowing is the blessing that follows obedience. Be still and know.


A random thought has been chasing me this week; no one ever denied the tomb was empty.