2 days from now it will be 366 days since I left for the biggest adventure of my life, thus far. A month and some change into being back in the states and I find myself sitting in my favorite tea shop in Charlottesville, VA pondering what’s next. That’s the big question at least. Americans love plans. We even have a whole section of our personalities based on whether or not we’re “planners” or “don’t-schedule-my-day-you-don’t-know-my-life” people. In that particular instance I’m a conundrum, just ask my squad leader. (Sorry again about those late C&C’s Hannah)
I’ve been attempting to fast this week. I’ve always been terrible at this particular spiritual discipline. I want answers, I need wisdom, so obviously putting my wants second and seeking God to fill me with more of Him just makes sense. Except that I suck at fasting. That is until I realized something today. I’m seeking specific answers and I’m asking vague questions. Max Lucado in his book “On the Anvil” says this, “The most deadly trick of Satan is not to rob us of answers. It’s to steal our questions.” If we don’t ask the right questions, we’ll never get the right answers. But for me, I think I fear the answers to my specific questions, so I ask vague questions. That way I have a valid excuse if I fail… (Gah, transparency sucks so bad.) I texted a friend today to pray for me today. I was having a full on panic moment. A very real, “The walls are closing in and I can’t breathe” crying fest. I hate those moments, I haven’t had them in over a year. and this one hit me quick and hard. Then, just as quickly as it came on, it went away. Praise God for good friends and prayer. As I was free writing tonight I realized something, I don’t know how to Be still. I know how to do nothing, I know how to occupy my mind with useless things, but I am not proficient in the practice of being still. Check this out:
Psalm 46 says
“God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,
though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble at its swelling. Selah
4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy habitation of the Most High.
5 God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved;
God will help her when morning dawns.
6 The nations rage, the kingdoms totter;
he utters his voice, the earth melts.
7 The Lord of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah
8 Come, behold the works of the Lord,
how he has brought desolations on the earth.
9 He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
he breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
he burns the chariots with fire.
10 “Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!”
11 The Lord of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah
I have quite literally lived verses 1-9 this past year. I’ve seen the earth moved, felt real fear, seen God move in ridiculously amazing ways and realized that there is no strength apart from Him, no refuge or safe place as true as He is. And don’t even get me started on verse 4 and 5, #loveit! But look at the change from 9 to 10. We’re all into the rivers of God, the shattering of spears and chariots of fire and then the Psalmist drops a word from the Lord on us, “Be still and know that I am God.” What the junk!?
“Ok God. I see you in that action… but what’s with the sudden stop??” I mean, Dang! I can hear the squeal of mental brakes as I read verse 10. Be still…
“What are you getting at?”
To be honest, I’m still taking this all in. In my pondering I thought about lifeguards. My old roommate was a lifeguard for a period of time in her life. She told me how part of training was learning how to rescue drowning people.
You punch them in the face.
No, I’m serious. It’s human nature to panic when you’re drowning. (See the spiritual similarities?)
In order to protect yourself as the lifeguard and to successfully save the person drowning, you have to incapacitate them. A person in panic will do whatever measures necessary to ensure they stay above water. Thankfully, the lifeguard has the same idea, “I’m going to do whatever it takes to save you!”
As I was in my own version of trying to stay afloat, God straight up punched me in the face with Psalm 46:10. Be still… and know I am God.
Know that I was present in everything that happened this year.
The miracles. That was me.
The trials. I allowed them.
The joy. I was strengthening you.
The love. I was all over that.
The hurt. I cried those tears first.
Being still isn’t about doing nothing. It’s about remembering, focusing, breathing…. It’s allowing Daddy God to show us His fingerprints. It’s allowing the lover of our souls the closeness of our ears, that we may hear His whispers. Like Elijah and the still small voice (1 Kings 19:11-13). We can stand in awe of the loud, hurricane, fiery, rushing wind, of God, but intimacy is in the stillness. I find it so amazing that verse 12 says, “And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire…” It was the stillness that Elijah recognized God.
I can tell the amazing stories of this year over and over again and they will never get old, but as I think back on this year, as I sit still, I realize it was in the quiet moments that I can see my most significant changes. It is in the stillness now that I can recognize that He is still leading, I am not drowning in uncertainty. I am being rescued… from myself.
Excuse me while I take a swim, in that river that makes me glad…
