Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
On a recent trip to Pennsylvania to visit my daughter, I toured the University of Pittsburgh where she works – right in the middle of the city. The campus is scattered among blocks of governmental buildings, high-rise apartments, and historical churches, and the sense of movement is constant.
Yet in the center of it all, a park bench beckoned, like the words of the Psalmist in 46:10 –
“Be still, and know that I am God.”
The bench offered a respite, inviting people to sit and take a breath. It didn’t insist. No flashing lights advertised its presence. It was just there, available, offering to take a load off anyone’s feet who would pause.
The heart of Pittsburgh, like other cities, is not the only place in constant motion. Wherever there are people, there is movement, bustling, busyness, and pockets of commotion. Sometimes right in the middle of our own homes.
In our current societal season, there is a lot of clamoring. A lot of noise. A lot of posturing and pointing, criticism and chaos.
None of it is new. It’s all happened before, many times, in fact. And God’s antidote is always the same:
Be still …
Ironically, that takes some doing. Some letting go. Some surrendering to the fact that we really aren’t in control of anything but our own responses.
When the mountains of man’s imagination slide into the sea, God is there.
When the faulty foundations of our scheming quake and crumble, God is there.
And when we quiet ourselves before our Maker and cease our incessant shrieking, God is there.
He is bigger than all the noise around us.
So let’s be different this year. Let’s pray more and stress less. Let’s take heart and know that the Lord of Heaven’s Armies is God, and He is there.
It could be that when we obey the directive and determine to be still, we will not only hear His voice more clearly, but become a reflection of His peace to others.Be still. Click To Tweet
“But you didn’t know,” Helen offered. “Don’t torture yourself over something you couldn’t have prevented and can’t undo.”
Mary picked up the glass of water from the nightstand. “The light grew and as it grew, it flickered. I knew immediately what was happening and could think only of dousing the flames. I grabbed two pails and ran to the pump. The fire was in the corner stall at the back of the barn. I poured several buckets of water over it, but it wouldn’t go out. It spread, as if following a path, and quickly climbed the wall.”
Her breath caught and she closed her eyes against the vision.
Helen touched her arm. “You don’t have to tell me anymore, honey. Just rest for a while. You can tell us later.”
Mary returned the glass to the stand and shook her head. “I kept filling the buckets. They got heavier and heavier, and the flames crawled higher and spread across the hay loft. I couldn’t stop it—I couldn’t stop it.”
She fell against the pillows at her back, breathless. “Then Hugh was there, whirling me away from the flames. He wouldn’t let go but backed us away from the barn, and we stood there watching it burn.”
Helen leaned over her and smoothed her hair. “Sleep, child. Give yourself a chance to rest. Everything will be all right. It always is.” ~Hope Is Built
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