Be Still

 

Be still …

We live in a place where Mhairi can measure the noise in negative decibels – making the cupboard under the stairs the perfect sound studio for recording.

And yet, this morning, when there seemed to be Velcro on the second word of the verse, Be still and know that I am God, I realised how alive the stillness is. A bee buzzed past my head, swirling round the room seeking nectar. The breeze rustled the clusters of blossom, tickling the branches into a gentle, swaying dance. And the birds! I can’t tell you which birds I heard, but there were many lovely songs – high and low and fast and slow, pausing and rising, singing a tune and hammering out a staccato.

I don’t hear the recognisable repeat of the cuckoo. Have they moved on now?

As lovely as all that is, I don’t think outer stillness is what God is calling me to notice, or not notice. After all, that’s all beyond my ability to control. It’s the inner stillness I’m struggling to attain. I want to arrest the arrows of anxiety which suddenly shoot a concern into my head. I want to hush the mundane mediocrity of wondering what to make for dinner, or if there’s enough bread for lunch. I want to silence the snatch of song, or the bite of a phrase someone said which still perturbs. I even want to temporarily turn from the joy which brings a smile to my face.

So that I can be still and know that God is God.

I may be stuck on that second word for awhile, and I definitely need God’s help to silence the inner voices which chatter and distract.

Be still and know that I am God.

I think when I can really be still, I will know that he is God, who calls and enables me into the stillness, the deep stillness, so resonant with the presence of our loving Lord.