Be Still? Really, God?

This is just another variant of familiar encouragement along the same lines:

“Be still and know that I am God…”

“And those who wait on the Lord…”

“Fear not, stand still and behold the salvation of the Lord…”

They’re everywhere—on mugs, plaques, bumper stickers, and journals. We hear them, see them, read them… a lot.

But do we do it? Do we actually sit still and wait? And even if we do, do we do it the way God invites us to—calm, confident, trusting?

Oh, boy.

I'm reading Psalm 27 and Psalm 37 daily right now, and both echo these themes.

King David wrote both psalms; Psalm 27 while being pursued by a jealous and utterly unhinged Saul, and Psalm 37 later in life when he faced more “everyday leadership challenges” as a king. In both seasons, he wrestled with evil others and circumstances beyond his control—despite being the heroic David we revere.

God is so clear: Be still. Listen. Wait. Trust.

Sometimes being still is less about physical stillness and more about a heart posture—a way of being as we move through life.

Rereading Scripture over and over (that’s meditation, really) imparts something powerful and extends a deeper invitation to believe it’s true.

“But—but!” we want to yell. “How much longer, God?”

Or, for me these days—pathologically action-oriented—“How still, Lord?”

Yesterday, driving the car, I had one of those moments of clarity when something I know became more real than it was a moment ago.

I’ve grown immensely in this area and am astonished by how peaceful I can be in waiting. But God keeps inviting me closer, deeper—to a more radical waiting and stillness: gentle, quiet, detached.

Radical indeed. It’s taken me a while.

Here’s my historic pattern: pray the prayer, read the verse, and then spring into action—“helping” God, not so helpfully. Usually full of gusto and panic, focus, intensity, flavored with a fair amount of anxious control.

“God, are you sure you want me to wait? It’s already been 12 minutes.”

“Let me give You a hand with that, God.”

“I’ll just stress myself and everyone else out trying these 28 different solutions, God.”

“God, this isn’t what I asked for.”

“See how good I am, God? How hard I’m trying? Please hurry.”

“Let’s make a deal, God.”

Nothing still about that.

Another disastrous favorite is forcing a solution of my own design, rushing ahead to create an Ishmael fraught with built-in problems. Recall that Ishmael was the hurry-up son Abraham and Sarah conceived when they wouldn’t wait for God to fulfill his promise. Yep. I’ve done that.

Sometimes I’ve paced in my head, working every angle.

Other times, I sat on my hands like a child waiting for Christmas.

It is a bit like waiting for Christ-mas.

Then—often—the solution appears, and it has no correlation to my effort. The danger is that when the answer comes, if it doesn’t look like what I anticipated or isn’t the direct result of my strenuous efforts, I don’t recognize it. Because I’m fixated on my version of the solution.

There’s also real danger in competence and smarts—the subtle pride that says, “I can do better.”

But what God calls us to, through the men and women of Scripture, is a prayerful, restful waiting—a trust that allows Him to act or direct us in keeping with His will, not ours.

He tells us to remember His faithfulness—the 11th-hour rescues that came out of nowhere.

The surprise ending when we thought all was lost.

He invites us to abide in shalom, the peace that anchors us and guides us in gentle whispers, not desperate shouts or frantic maneuvers.

In Isaiah 30:15 (NLT), God says, “This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says: Only in returning to me and resting in me will you be saved. In quietness and confidence is your strength.”

That’s not passive; it’s powerful.

In recovery we say we ask God for direction and then we “relax and take it easy.” Seriously.

Not lying on the sofa eating bonbons, but asking God for guidance, doing the next right thing, and leaving time and space for His movement—entrusting the outcome to Him.

Pause. Pray. Proceed.

PRACTICE

Where are you taking panicked action? Experiment, even in a small way, with being still and waiting—prayerfully affirming your trust in God. Note what happens.

PRAYER

Forgive us, Lord, when we rush ahead or make a mess in panicked willfulness. Help us to wait in stillness, asking for Your help, listening with peaceful ears attuned to Your Spirit, acting only when You say so, and trusting You with the outcome. We ask this in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Thank You. I love You. 💖

DIG DEEPER

Psalm 46:10, Exodus 14:14, Isaiah 30:15, and Lamentations 3:25–26.

#Bestill #WaitonTheLord #FaithInAction #ChristianRecovery #TwelveStepSpirituality #QuietStrength #PausePrayProceed #isabellacampolattaro