Be Still and Know
What it means to Be Still
I was an adult when I was diagnosed with ADHD. Sadly, my body is never hyper (and I could use the urge to move more and burn more calories). But this brain — rarely stops. However, I have learned to intentionally calm my thoughts.
Somewhere in the midst of knowing that I am an extrovert and learning to live with an overactive brain, I also learned to embrace the quiet. I found a way to recharge in the calmness.
At some point I learned to embrace the quiet and figured out that there are times that I desperately need to be still. And I began to embrace Psalm 46:10, “Be still and know that I’m God.”
Because there have been many times when I felt overwhelmed or unfocused, I have learned that repeating those words brings about peace. Learning to be still and sit quietly in the presence of God was something I learned to do somewhere around the time I turned 40.
When I learned to be still
For years, “Be still and know” became a comforting reminder that I repeated to myself frequently. I marked it in my Bible. It was boldly stamped on the front of one of my journals and even served as the screensaver on my computer at work. I didn’t really share it with anyone else. I didn’t talk about it. I just came to rely on the comfort I gained when I learned to truly be still and focus on the presence of God in my life. And I was glad that it had begun to truly impact my daily life in a positive way. I had learned that being still was exactly what I needed to do. Being still gave me the opportunity focus on talking with God, And it is certainly what I needed to do when listening.
While diving into the biblical background of being still, I found that to be still meant to stop fighting, For me, this meant putting aside all else from my thoughts and allowing the awesomeness of God to be the center of my focus. Intentionally being still allowed me to find calmness, peace, relaxation, and confidence in the presence and promises of God.
The day that being still really truly necessary
When my sister, Cathy, passed away unexpectedly, it was 2016. I knew she had COPD and she was getting increasingly worse. But I did not realize she was that sick, or that she needed a lung transplant. And I never dreamed I would lose her when I did. She was 51. I was shocked, angry with God, and devastated. All of the sudden I felt a feeling of loneliness that went beyond what I felt I could handle. I was without my first friend, my confidant, and the person that stood beside me as matron of honor at my wedding. I would have to learn to navigate without my only sibling, and the person that knew more about me than anyone else on the planet. I would have to learn to live life on earth without my Sissy. And to say that I was completely and totally grief stricken would be a gross understatement.
Now that I’m looking back, I’m so very grateful for the calls, visits, texts, messages, etc. that poured in from friends and family in the days that followed her passing. At the time however, I just couldn’t bear the communication with people. As people reached out, it took everything I could find within me to respond to each with a cordial yet simple, “Thank you.”
The difference between my mom and me
As they say, the struggle was real. It was all too real And all I was able to do was sit silently on my couch, in my home, with my sweet husband quietly by my side. Several days went by where all I remember was sitting and being still. My mom and I handled our grief in very different ways. I couldn’t socialize and could barely even speak. There was no desire to leave my house and I certainly wasn’t ready to attend a service that was intended to celebrate her earthly life – at the end of it.
Mom- on the other hand- did not stop. She had a job to do to honor her oldest daughter one last time. She knew that she had one chance left to do something- and sprang into action. Without a doubt, she was bent and determined to push through and make that service a beautiful and memorable tribute to the amazing person she had raised- down to every last detail. My mom showed superhuman strength during that time, which was typical of her character.
As I sat on my couch, for the 5th day straight, staring into nothingness just two days before Cathy’s service, I remember Mom walking in, running on pure adrenaline, and eager to open a bag to show me what she had found. She reached in and pulled out a beautiful quilted throw. She shared that she wanted to use it on top of Cathy’s casket beside the blanket of flowers intended to cover the top. These were conversations I just didn’t want to have. They were thoughts that I wasn’t ready to think and plans that I didn’t think I could make.
After taking it out of the bag, Mom went on to tell me how much she loved it and was drawn to it and explained that she had no idea why she was unable to walk past it that day without picking it up- even though she was originally looking for something very different.
A perfectly timed reminder
While she was talking to me that day, I still remember the numbness that I felt across my entire body. And as she continued talking, I continued to feel dazed and was only partly comprehending what she was saying. As I half heartedly tried to engage in the conversation with her, she opened the throw. Boldly and beautifully printed in the center of the throw, as if God Himself had created it just for me were the words, “Be Still and Know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10.
Tears filled my eyes and my grief stricken heart skipped a beat as I processed the realization of what mom held in her hands. The words I had quietly found comfort in for the last decade were stretched out in front of me- not to be missed- as if God hand-placed them there intentionally. And I believe with my whole heart that He did just that.
In that moment, I knew I was doing what I needed to do- which was to be still and quiet and wait for God to fulfill His promises. That’s when I broke down and cried and shared with my mom how much that verse had meant to me for so long. She had no idea. The fact that she didn’t know confirmed for both of us that the insistent nudge she received that day to purchase something as walked passed it was indeed a whisper from our Father. We both knew it.
I felt as though I had received a direct sign from God that reminded me that although I was grieving, I was not alone.
My thoughtful mother
My mom immediately decided that she would purchase a second throw- for me. While buying the first one, she had decided that she would give it to my brother in law at the end of the service. After our talk that day, however, she decided that her I needed it. Finding a second one was not an easy task but she managed. She added the matching pillow the following Christmas and the throw has been folded at the foot of my bed since then.
Being Still every day
Four years later and with deep sentiment and emotions, I made the decision to use that very throw at my mom’s service. We lost Mom, completely unexpectedly and with an enormous amount of trauma surrounding her passing. During that time, I was so grateful for the reminder as I had no choice but to, again, learn to Be still.
Although the last six years have been grief filled, they have also been filled with a sense of peace. God’s promise to always walk beside us has surfaced in so many ways. On the darkest days, when I felt the most alone, His unfailing love has shown through in so many ways. I need only to be still and look for the signs that he is carrying me through.
Now when I am still, I already know.
I know that I am not alone.
I know that I do not have to fear.
I know that God’s promises are real and true.
