Be Still

I’m not one to make resolutions for the coming year.  But, I have an intention.

To . . . just practice stillness.

When I was young, I had an annoying habit of jiggling my leg or foot.  My mama would say, “Be still!” The teacher would say, “Child, sit still!”  Ten minutes with my gramma, and I’d hear “Still your itchy britches.”

It was a problem I didn’t lose with age.  I had to be doing something, cleaning something, fixing somebody.

Until, I heard my Father say the same thing one fine day.

Be still and know that I am God.

We think we know that we know, until something surfaces to show us differently . . .

Most of us are still in a holi-daze exhausted from the extras that overshadow the Extraordinary.

I knew I was in trouble when I was standing in the short grocery line counting the items in the cart in front of me . . . no way she had less than ten.

Then, passing everyone on the highway, including a flashing light close behind, was a sorry reminder I must be in a hurry.

The real test came when I said “amen” before I prayed . . .  definitely not be-ing still . . .

We refuse to still our busy-addiction because we’re busy working it out for ourselves.

Be still and know that we’re not God.

So, what would happen if we just stilled our thinking and doing for an intentional moment and cease from spiritual wiggling?

Not simply stilling the body, but stilling the soul.  There is a way to be present within the sanctuary where Holiness resides.

Bow and breathe. Listen.  Remember.

When we catch ourselves losing our breath from running the race – breathe in Jesus, and practice stillness in the middle of the muddle.

Let’s encourage one another for the next seven days to take at least ten minutes every day to enter the silence and reflect in the deep part of His goodness and wonder.

My prayer for you, seven days turn into 365 – your intention.

Blessings in the coming year . . . .

Be still, my daughter, and learn how the matter turns out . . . Ruth 3:16