Learning to Be Still
Place yourself among the disciples in those strange days after Easter. Jesus is risen, yet the world has not suddenly become safe or simple. Fear still lingers behind locked doors. Questions remain unanswered. Mission lies ahead, but clarity feels partial. How still would you feel in their situation? Resurrection joy and anxious uncertainty sit side by side. Stillness, for them, is not calm retreat but a discipline learned in the midst of turbulence.
I recently read of the words: “‘Be still, and know that I am God’ (Psalm 46:10). They cold very well be the sign on God’s waiting room wall. You can be glad because God is good. You can be still because he is active. You can rest because he is busy.” That insight reframes stillness. It is not about doing nothing; it is about trusting Someone who never stops working.
Yet we must be honest: not all stillness is healthy. Still water, left without movement, quickly becomes stagnant—starved of oxygen, a breeding ground for decay. The same can be true spiritually. A faith that never listens, never prays, never responds can quietly stagnate, even while outwardly appearing calm.
Psalm 46:10 offers a different kind of stillness. “Be still, and know that I am God.” This knowing is the oxygen for the soul. It is attentive stillness, expectant stillness, the kind that creates space for God to remind us who he is—sovereign over chaos, present in trouble, faithful in uncertainty. The psalm does not deny the roaring nations or the shaking earth; it declares that God is exalted in the midst of them.
For the disciples, learning to be still meant waiting for the Spirit, listening for Jesus’ voice, and trusting that God’s purposes were unfolding even when they could not yet see how. For us, stillness is not withdrawal from discipleship but preparation for it.
The challenge: Where might your life be noisy but shallow, busy but breathless? What would it look like to practise stillness that listens for God rather than stagnation that avoids him? This week, set aside intentional moments to be still—not to escape responsibility, but to breathe deeply of God’s presence and truth.
Prayer:
Living God, when our hearts race and our minds crowd with fear or distraction, teach us to be still before you. Breathe your life into our weary souls. Keep us from stagnant faith, and fill us with the living knowledge of who you are. As we wait on you, renew our strength and lead us forward in trust and obedience. Amen
