In the stillness
Recently, there has been a lacking quiet in my life. My friend Cori put it in those words and I can’t help but feel like it’s the most accurate way to describe these days. The last few blogs I’ve written seem to encapsulate my current season: busy.
And yet, there are nights like tonight where I simply exist. I spend time cleaning my room, decluttering my mind, unwinding from the virtual social pressures of the week. I breathe in and out, finally feeling the air in my lungs fill me to the brim with a consciousness for what’s around me and what’s in my head. Life is not all that bad, here in the stillness.
Rushing from task to task during my day often leaves me feeling a sort of discomfort with stillness. The silence between Teams “pings” either means I’m expected to be working on something or I’m just awaiting the next order of importance. I usually use that time to browse between Chrome, Teams, and Outlook..waiting for a notification to direct my attention and busy my thoughts. The work from home life is truly an exercise of self-compassion and discipline. It’s an unending process of finding new productive rhythms that will carry me through another 8-hour day at my desk.
At the end of my work day I close my laptop and, ah. Yes, now I am home. But..not really? Because there was another ping on my Teams to alert me that I have to send out another quick email. So I do. Then I send a reply to someone else because I’m now back “on” and feel the compulsory need to respond once I’ve seen a message.
My biggest struggle recently is remembering that stillness is good. Stillness is God-breathed, God-fearing, God-entrusting. It is letting myself let go. Literally. Stillness is the reminder that Christ does not just exist in my mind but in everything around me. He is the quiet of day even when my meeting schedule tells me that I should be hurriedly prepping every detail for the next call. He sits with me, eats with me, listens as I relay my concerns before His feet before every touch base or presentation.
I recognize God’s peace because I know what it feels like to lack peace. In the same way, I recognize that stillness is a gift. It is something to enjoy freely, because it is acknowledging the grand presence of the Creator. When the music, voices, and worried thoughts are gone..what is left? Just the sounds of a world sustained for the sake of a beloved Son. And I am blessed to be here, a part of this story that God has written for the world.
When we are still, we leave those things that entangle us in anxiousness and fear to the Lord. It is ultimate surrender and an act of utmost relational trust. I’m learning that setting boundaries in work and social life means letting God help me to draw those lines in places that will, eventually, reveal His good and faithful character.
Making room for God right now is probably the most important part of this whole season. Yes, I can devote all my hours to the Lord when my only liability is attending BSF groups on Tuesday nights. But my yes involves a lot more discernment when life is filled with good friends, fellowship, work, and relationship. I suddenly feel the strain of my hands clinging to those good things too tightly — trying to singlehandedly hold it all together.
“But I trust in you Lord; I say, ‘You are my God.’”- Psalm 31:14
This is a time of letting the light in. Light that appears when busy-ness ceases. Light that illuminates the fearful parts of my soul that naturally retreat from redemption. A takeaway from this night of nothing: stillness is the absence of noise and the fullness of God.
