Have a Seat

During my morning quiet time, God dropped a visual into my mind.

Imagine if you didn’t believe chairs were reliable, and you had a paralyzing fear of chairs or even merely of sitting. Imagine if you went through life with deep-seated doubts about the security of chairs of any kind or the safety of sitting at all. Since there’s a lot of sitting involved in many of our lives, this would be a real issue.

By the way, these are rare but real phobias: Kathisophobia (fear of sitting down) and Cathedraphobia (fear of chairs).

If you had such fears, you might be quite concerned about any seating you encountered. You might hesitate to sit down, if you sat down at all. You might examine the chair closely, testing every joint. Some industrious doer might seek to shore up the chair with more stuff, laboring for elusive stability.

One might pace anxiously, circling the chair with trepidation. You might avoid chairs since the mere sight of them caused dread. You’d likely be anxious about the next time you could be required to sit. You might find yourself wandering restlessly because you couldn’t stop to sit.

If for some reason you were required to sit, you’d likely be very nervous, bracing tensely the entire time. You might sit squirming, shifting positions trying to find what felt safe. If the fear was bad enough, you might prefer to suffer any consequence rather than sit.

You might seek some alternatives to sitting—leaning, squatting, lying down, all with their limitations or issues. Or maybe you’d zoom fast and hard to keep your momentum going to avoid the need to sit.

Eventually, you might get quite tired. Over time, you might develop some deep physical and emotional problems around your inability to sit confidently and comfortably. You might even collapse.

I could go on. I know all about it. Not because I’ve feared chairs or sitting, but because I’ve feared faith. I’ve feared trusting God really loves me, knows best, and has me.

Yet, that’s faith. To believe. God invites us to sit still, listen, and trust. Restfully.

The Scriptures are full of invitations to be still. God repeatedly coaxes us gently—or forcefully—to be still and wait on Him.

He knows it’s hard. King David and others lament it repeatedly. Jesus called out Martha to stop fussing and choose the better thing that Mary chose by just sitting at His feet, listening.

Even more pointedly, we’re told that without faith, it is impossible to please God.

Not faith in chairs or faith in stillness or silence, but faith in Him.

He says we must believe He exists and rewards those who really seek Him.

I’ve faced this invitation and resistance again and again. After so much trial and error, I resist much less now. I sit a lot longer. Much more still—not so much toe-tapping and squirming. It is unspeakably wonderful when I do. I can still tend to run around anxiously a bit before I stop and sit a while, and then all is well.

I know this is a miracle of grace because I’ve spent decades, constitutionally incapable of sitting still and silent. Now I wish I could do it for hours at a time.

Thus, I am so glad to tell you that this kind of faith is available, that this kind of stillness clarifies and fixes a lot. I know because I’ve lived it and relive it again and again, returning to that place of simple faith in Him. Usually when I can’t stand anymore.

Come. Pull up a chair.

PRAYER:

Lord Jesus: Help us come sit at your feet, still, certain, attentive, listening. You are and have all we need. Grant us more faith in You, seated on Your Heavenly Throne. Amen. Thank You. I love You. ❤️

DIG DEEPER:

Matthew 11:28-30

Luke 10:39–42

Hebrews 11:6

Psalm 27

Psalm 37