I’m not particularly good at being still. When I consider the words of the hymn, “Peace, be still, and know that I am God,” I long for a magic day, a blessed season of life, when I will finally have a pattern of living that will be settled enough or secure enough that I can finally make regular, sustained time to just be peaceful and still with God. I wish for more than just the few blessed moments that I can be snatched here or there in the usual chaos of my life. This isn’t necessarily surprising, having grown up in a culture and society that often equates busyness and productivity.
Sometimes, even my prayer and devotional time can fall into the patterns of productivity. Placing completely self-inflicted expectations surrounding checklists of who to pray for, or needing to read a certain amount of scripture in a specific timeframe, or only giving myself time in my day for meditation and reflection if it will be able to have “real quality” to it. And yet those words from Christ in scripture, “Peace be still,” are not spoken as advice for a more grounded spiritual reflection, but rather a command to a literal storm he and the disciples find themselves in.
While peace and stillness can be cultivated in spiritual discipline, it would serve me well to remember that more often, stillness is something we must learn to demand in the middle of life’s storms. Something we faithfully carve out in the middle of life’s chaos, when we are most busy or feeling overwhelmed, and when we seem to have the least time. Not because God needs it from us as a demonstration of faithfulness and devotion, but because we need it for ourselves, so we might better know God’s peace.