The house is unusually quiet this morning. We’ve all slept in a bit; we met the new year with late night conversation. Our daughter returns to school today, so we had to get our words in before bed, of course. I’m grateful for a few hours of solace in the first light of 2022. It’s good to be alone with the Lord, especially when your heart is heavy.
I’ve been reading a little book about daily office: an ancient practice of fixed hour prayer. It was actually given to me by a nurse who tended to my brother several years ago. I set it aside in that season, too many things on my plate. Wouldn’t you know it was recommended again by a friend just this past week and I happened to have it already on my shelf. It’s intriguing to me how books tend to come into our lives at just the right time.
This little missive instructs on twice-a-day centering prayer and scripture reflection. The strange space between Christmas and New Year’s has proven to be just the place to attempt it. I’ve chosen Psalm 46:10 as my focus scripture.
“Be still, and know that I am God:” (Psalm 46:10 NIV)
Being still is not my strong suit. I wonder if you can relate? I’m a planner, a do-er, a get-er-done kind of gal. Yet I limped through the last week of 2021 in stillness; assuaged with sorrow. The centering prayer is helping. I keep returning to this verse, a battered raft riding the waves. I particularly like the King James version.
“Be still and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted among the earth. The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.” (Psalm 46:10 KJV)
It is in the stillness alone that we can set aside our compulsion to rule. It is in stillness that we recall how small we truly are. It is in stillness that we begin to rightly perceive how large our God actually is. Stillness is where our misperceptions are dismantled as the agents of harm they actually are. Stillness is where we are accosted with the depth of our depravity and the boundless nature of God’s grace. Stillness makes space for right revelation and genuine worship. Stillness is where we encounter and accept Immanuel: He’s been right beside us all along. We have never been alone, only too hurried to notice. Stillness is where we discover the Refuge we’ve been in desperate need of all this time.
Moses comes to mind. He spent forty years traipsing about in Midian. It seems to me, he spun his wheels for four decades, trying to make sense of the first part of his story. Moses’ melody was unresolved and his losses were great. (Can you relate?) Moses’ middle years included a lot of wound-licking and navel-gazing until one day he looked up and saw the glory of God burning brightly beside him. Miraculously, Moses had the guts to go over and see what God had perhaps always been ready to reveal to him.
“And Moses said, I will now turn aside and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt. And the Lord saw that he turned aside to see, God called to Him out of the midst of the bush, and said to Moses, Moses. And he said Here I am.” (Exodus 3:3-4 KJV)
Moses went out of his way to meet God. He turned aside and went still in the presence of that burning bush, in witness and with-ness of the thing he couldn’t quite comprehend. It was only then that he heard the voice of God quite plainly.
While I don’t yet have a word for 2022, I suspect this next season to be about turning aside; about slowing my soul in this familiar yet wretched stretch of wilderness. I can’t work my way through grief this time, I can only go still and wait on His glory.
Lord, stillness can be devastating at first. The emotions crash in the quiet and we are undone, desperate to get back up to speed in order to turn down the pain. Please meet us as we learn to wait on You. Reward us with Your presence, reveal Your with-ness from the very beginning. Strip away our misconceptions and reveal Your glory. Give us right revelation and restore as only You can. Amen.