“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, even though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea. … Be still and know that I am God.”
— Psalm 46:1-2, 10a
Have you ever seen a child, exhausted after a long day, who keeps in constant motion, knowing innately that if he stops for one moment he will fall asleep? It’s remarkable sometimes to witness the willpower that the smallest among us can muster to keep going long after their bedtimes.
Of course, if you’re the parent, the process of trying to force sleep upon that restless child can drain you. Raise your hand with me if you’ve been there.
I see this as an analogy for our nation. America pushes forward always, fearing that if it stops someone else will make that dollar or win that game or earn that fame. It’s why we’re the richest, most innovative nation in the history of the world.
But it’s also why we change things far faster than we can figure out how to deal with them. Like those tired parents, many lives get crushed along the way as they try to run alongside the endlessly driving engine.
And this past month has been that one moment where we have been forced to be still. That’s been hard for us. We’ve tried to fight it and are itching to get out of bed and go back at it when morning finally comes.
Yet it would behoove us to use this rare national pause productively. Just as the tired child really needs that rest, we must stop sometimes and reflect. We should, as the psalmist put it, “be still and know that I am God.”
For one thing, when we settle ourselves down is when we realize that we aren’t gods. We don’t and can’t control what goes on around us. But at those moments when that becomes clear to us is when we realize that we have a God who does. There is comfort in not having to figure out and fix everything yourself, but to have faith in the One who is able.
Recall the prophet Elijah, who fled to the mountain of God because the evil queen Jezebel sought his life. A strong wind —think of the destructive power of the tornados that struck our neighbors in Mississippi this week — broke rocks apart. But God wasn’t in that blast.
Then came an earthquake, capable of swallowing up the very ground under your feet, but God wasn’t in that either, nor was He in a fire. All those things reflected great power, which God surely has, but they did not show His true nature.
No, that wasn’t seen until a still, small voice — some translations call it a “gentle whisper” — came to Elijah. Then he knew he was standing before the Lord.
It's God's way, despite his world-shaping strength, to be manifest in a still, small voice. That is a presence of peace and comfort when things are raging all around.
We, too, can draw closer to God when we stop and be quiet. God doesn’t speak to us directly anymore, but we can see His work in the creation around us and hear His voice through the pages of His word. We’ve just got to settle down enough to where we’re willing to take the time to read and think about spiritual things.
If you’re down about the coronavirus and the health and economic calamity it has brought, why not look at it as an opportunity to be still?
I know it’s difficult right now when the kids are at home all the time or you are taking care of elderly relatives or worried about the future of your job.
But you may be surprised at how refreshing it can be to step aside and think about what really matters.
Then you’ll be rested and ready to go when the world resumes operations.
Charlie Smith is editor and publisher of The Columbian-Progress. Reach him via email at csmith@columbianprogress.com or call (601) 736-2611.
