WHAT DOES IT MEAN to be still?
The answer to that, I suppose, can be far-ranging depending on context. Ask a child to be still and you likely want them to sit quietly. Waiting.
Ask an adult to be still and you likely want them to listen.
Waiting and listening. Both are important in relationships, in communicating, in understanding.
Now take those two words and consider them from a faith perspective. Be still and know that I am God. That scripture, Psalm 46:10, has once again—thrice in the past several days—popped right before my eyes. And I mean that in the literal sense although “popped” may be a bit of a stretch. While reading the book, Red Letter Challenge, for a Lenten series focus at my church, that bible verse showed up on page 19 in the introduction.
Only two days prior I found Psalm 46:10 penned in my handwriting on an envelope buried in a drawer I haven’t looked in for months.
And then, yesterday, I found a bookmark inside Troubled Minds—Mental Illness and the Church’s Mission by Amy Simpson (a book I’d highly recommend) and gifted to me by a dear friend. She’d tucked the bookmark, with the verse, Be still and know that I am God, inside. I read the book months ago. But a recent sermon on the stigmas of mental illness by the pastor at my friend’s church, Emmaus in Northfield, prompted me to pull the Simpson book from the shelf. And then rediscover the be still bookmark. I’d highly recommend you listen to this sermon series about the “no casserole disease.”
But back to Psalm 46:10. I’ve written here previously about that scripture first emphasized to me by my friend Steve. And then soon thereafter, during an especially challenging period in my family’s life, the bible verse just kept showing up. In hymns, devotionals, on a child’s drawing, on a print in the public restroom of my mom’s care center, on a handcrafted paper angel…
Some might call this coincidence. I don’t. As a woman of faith, I believe these words were meant to be imprinted upon my heart. Psalm 46:10 reminds me that even in the midst of chaos, God is here, with me, carrying me through difficult days, encouraging me to be calm, to be still, to understand that I am not alone.
Nor are you alone. As human beings, we all hold the capacity to be there for one another. To sit quietly. To listen. And then, when we can, offer compassion, support, hope and encouragement. To bring the hotdish when no one else does. To love and embrace. To be there.
© Copyright 2020 Audrey Kletscher Helbling