Silence fills the air as the waves of the pool gently rock my body back and forth.
No one is calling my name or asking a million questions. No one is sitting next to me. No one is laughing loudly and uncontrollably, disrupting the sweet peace surrounding me. I am alone. Truly alone.
Finally, I am still.
“Be still and know that I am God.”
Stillness has been just past my fingertips for the last seven months. My life has consisted of perpetual “on-the-go-ness” since I left America on September 9, 2015.
Go to new country. Go to ministry site. Go to off day adventure. Go to debrief. Go to next country. Go to next ministry site. Go to next off day adventure. Go to next country. Go…go…go…for seven months.
I was okay for a while, or so I told myself. I thought I was invincible, that this lifestyle wasn’t going to catch up with me because “I can handle it.”
See, but there’s a problem with that. Because I can’t handle it.
I actually have no further ability to handle it. I’m exhausted. I’m at the end of myself. I physically cannot “go” anymore. Not on my own, anyway.
Since returning to Cambodia, we have lived in a very restful place. The Overflow Guesthouse was built around being a space for relaxation and rejuvenation, specifically for World Racers. We have the freedom to take as much time as we want to rest, spend time with the Lord, take a dip in the pool, or watch the sun set peacefully over the Siem Reap skyline from our rooftop terrace.
Photo credit: Ashley Cook
This place has the potential for so much rest. So what is stopping me?
I. Cannot. Be. Still.
One particularly stressful day, I sat with the Lord, frustrated at my exhaustion. I had reached a point where, although I was spending time with God every day, I wasn’t really connecting with Him. That left me feeling even more drained and spiritually dry.
I scribbled and underlined and yelled at God. I knew He could handle my emotions. I vented and cried. I worshiped as I buried my face in my hands, trying to pretend that two of my teammates were not sitting, a little worried, right next to me.
I asked Him what He wanted from me. I’m doing all I can and it’s only gotten me here.
Instantly, I sense the whisper: be still and know, my daughter.
Be still and know…be still…be still.
God. I don’t know how to be still. What does that even mean? Sure, I can physically sit still, but is that what you really want?
Yes.
I pridefully scoffed at God, said “Whatever,” and wrapped up quiet time.
In the days to come, I could not escape the idea of physically being still. God would bring it to mind in moments of chaos or exhaustion or frustration. In the times when I felt like the to-do’s were so long that I just wanted to take a nap, God whispered…be still.
I am so lucky to serve such a loving, gracious, and patient God. He will whisper His words to me until it reaches the depths of my soul. He’ll wait, patiently, as I become frustrated time and time again, blaming Him for all my problems. He is with me as I break down, as I’ve decided I’ve had enough. He loves me through it wholly and unconditionally.
I read one of my Pre-Race blogs recently entitled “Break Me.” In this blog I write the following:
“Brokenness is the point where you feel like you just can’t do it anymore. Where you’re ready to give up and go back to the comforts of home. Where you can’t stand to witness a single more injustice in the world. Where you think you’re going to lose it at the next person in your community to say something to make you uncomfortable. Where you just want to be done.”
Hm. Sounds familiar.
In the same blog I also say:
“When it comes down to it, my only expectation for the World Race is for God to change me. To change me, He has to break me. He has to get me to the place where I have nowhere to turn but to Him, so that I can learn what it means to truly depend on Him.”
Ha, be careful what you pray for, young RaeLynn.
The reality is, God is doing exactly what I’ve been asking Him to do my entire Race. He’s taken me to a point where I have nowhere to turn but to Him.
He’s taken me to a place of brokenness. Now to a place of stillness.
In the stillness, I hear His voice. In the stillness, I sense His presence. In the stillness, I find the strength to make it through another moment, another day.
In the stillness, I find deeper dependency and intimacy with my Holy Dad.
It’s not easy. It’s actually really difficult. I’m still in the process of figuring out what stillness looks like. I caught a glimpse of it tonight in the pool. I love that God graciously provides snapshots of what life with Him can be like.
As each day passes walking hand in hand with Jesus, I know that I will become increasingly content just being in His presence.
His presence, my friends, is a beautiful place to exist.
