I know the title’s a little foreboding, but you’ll soon understand why. So, the unthinkable of unthinkables happened Monday: my phone died and I didn’t have my charger nearby (within 20 miles). And then, I was feeling rundown Tuesday, so I didn’t go to work Tuesday, thus I didn’t retrieve said charger. There my phone sat, cold, lifeless. I have a Mac desktop and a tablet, so I was still relatively connected Tuesday, but then I left the house to go to Bible study. And that’s when the real happening began: spare my iPod (with no WiFi), I was technology-less, disconnected completely from this digital world. And I liked it.
First, be still
What did we ever do without technology? Simply, we had less to distract us from being still. I took the metro to Bible study, so what other option did I have but to be still? Sure, I could’ve retreated into my music, but I wasn’t in that kind of a mood. I was still. Painfully still. And in the stillness, I came to one of the worst realizations you can come to in the moment which is that it’s been far too long since the last time that happened. It scared the crap out of me. And I forced myself to be still a little longer.
Be still a little longer
Unnerved as I was, not knowing where to start, I simply started breathing and repeating under my breath “God, I don’t know the words.” When you’re truly approaching the Alpha and Omega, it’s supposed to be a scary thing. At least that’s what I’ve come to believe through reading and past experience. “Where do we begin catching up, what do I say, what should I say, am I thinking too much?!” the thoughts racing through my mind. All of a sudden, as my thoughts reached a fever pitch, it broke just as suddenly as the din had begun.
Just be still
And that’s the time when I broke. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I retreated back to the silence of myself. Or should I say, I retreated from the silence back to the comfortable noise of my incoherent thoughts, irrational fears, my Indie music. I retreated back to the meaningless. And in that moment, I was alone. I can’t recall a more lonely train ride.
There’s a reason we’re told to “Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10) God could very easily cut through the noise with a voice that brings universes into being. But it’s far more beautiful for Him to restrain this power and speak to us in the silence. It’s far more poetic that He would wait for us in the silence, gently whispering for us to be still, child. Let’s not lose sight of the fact that He’s still God and His mere presence is almost too much for us to behold. He is mighty, but He is gentle. And He’s waiting for us in the stillness. Let’s go to Him today in confidence, friends.