Yesterday I was reading Psalm 46:10 – “Be still and know that I am God,” for the second time this week. (A few days ago I read this post by Randy Peck.)

So I thought I would write a love letter to God. But God said, “Be still.”
Then I thought I would read more of the Bible. But God said, “Be still.”
Music! Music always helps me worship. But God said, “Be still.”
So instead, I thought I should journal. But God said, “Be still.”

“But God, don’t I have to DO something?
READ something?
PRAY something?
WRITE something?

How can I just ‘BE STILL?’
It’s so counter to culture, society, church – to life?”

“Be still.”

“OK – You want me to ‘Be still?’ (Sometimes I’m a slow learner.) I will. Pen down. Now….”

…So I went outside to be still, just in time to hear the bells chime 12 times for it was noon. But God was not in the bells.

And I heard the leaves in the trees rustling in the breeze. But God was not in the breeze, nor in the leaves.

And I heard the sound of a lawn mower whirring in the distance. But God was definitely not in the lawn mower. (Can I get an “Amen?”)

And I heard the bees buzzing busily around me as I sat on the deck. But God was not in the bees.

And I heard the birds in the neighborhood and in the woods behind my house, singing beautifully. But God was not in the birds nor in their song.

And finally, I was still. I felt the breeze on my cheeks and relished the sun’s gentle kiss on my skin (for it had been raining for what seemed to be 40 days and 40 nights). Just then, a fly landed on my arm. And God was in the fly (not literally, lest some confuse me with a pantheist). I watched it for a bit, realizing that flies don’t land on moving objects. When I’m so busy doing – I don’t give God the chance to simply love on me.

I know what it’s like to love a child unconditionally. At night when I lie down to say prayers with Hannah and Morgan, I hold them and tell them how much I love them. I lovingly place my hand on Morgan’s head as he snuggles into my chest, or sometimes gently sweep locks of hair away from Hannah’s face so I can gaze into her eyes. And together, we share this beautiful moment of intimacy, not based on actions nor behaviors. The good and bad of the day somehow fade away and we simply enjoy being with one another.

When I send Jake or Michaela out the door to catch the bus, I stop them in their haste to be “first,” so I can get their attention. I place their faces in my hands, look them directly in the eyes and say, “Have a good day. I love you.”

And I remind all of them that if I lined up all the little children in the whole wide world, I would choose them to be my sons and daughters.

But I don’t always understand how to be loved like that by God. I have my moments when I slow down long enough to allow him to land on me (like that fly) and pour out His love towards me. But sadly, those times are few and far between. I’m often so busy telling God and showing God how much I love Him, that I don’t give Him time nor permission to love on me.

But today, I got it right. I was still and I knew that He was God.