- devoid or abstaining from motion
- uttering no sound
- free from noise or turbulence
Yet, stillness is another box I've tried to stuff the Lord into. I've tried to make stillness into something fashionable and doable. But what does stillness really look like? I just wonder if being still might sometimes mean something more than completely halting. Because right now I hear Him in my spirit whispering,
"Just keep moving, darling, but trust me with your steps."
And everything inside of me is challenged. I feel contradictory. I thought I knew what "Be Still before the Lord" meant.
So, I was wrong. That's fine, because in all of the crazy, maybe stillness means I'm not complaining about really. dumb. stuff. Which, I'm sure Jesus is okay with.
What if stillness is effortlessly trusting?
Movement without striving?
What if stillness is the listening while working?
The honoring of the morning quiet
While the coffee brews and the showers run
And the clocks-tick, but the soul is....still
Ever-leaning into the presence of the Jesus?
What if stillness is turning off the radio while driving?
Pushing away the complaint?
Maybe its an inner peace that can't be penetrated by
That Strange Fuzzy Static in the background.
What if stillness always adds?
What if stillness always serves with hands open in lap
Or feet pat, pat, patting on ground
What if stillness is just a lack of noise?
Lack of the unnecessary.
Lack of the clutter.
Lack of the frivolous junk that clouds intention.
Lack of the whispers of the enemy
Trying to convince me that I suck
Weakening the threshold on which I can stand and be still
And shed off the crap.
What if stillness is more than halting.
What if stillness is more brave than stopping
For fear that love will come too close?
What if stillness is leaning in
Honestly, I don't know. But if stillness is listening, then I know the Lord is telling me to trust him and just keep moving.