“Be still, and know that I am God …”
How rarely we do that; just be still. Just let God be God.
It is so hard.
Because if he is God, then I am definitely not.
And sometimes that is just tough to face.
So, we run and run and run, hoping somehow to prove our worth, to find meaning, to justify our existence.
Is it too much for God to ask that one day a week we “be still?” Is it too much for God to ask that every once in awhile we simply allow him to be God?
This poem from Mary Oliver helps me do these really hard things:
Today I’m flying low and I’m
not saying a word.
I’m letting the voodoos of ambition sleep.
The world goes on as it must,
the bees in the garden rumbling a bit,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.
But I’m taking the day off.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move though really I’m traveling
a terrific distance.
Stillness. One of the doors
into the temple.
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