This week I’ve been trying to actually build a prayer life, not just say prayers. I got up early some mornings, picked a fixed hour to keep returning to, let my words get plain and unpolished instead of composed. Somewhere in the middle of all that effort I came back across Psalm 46:10. Be still, and know that I am God.

What struck me is how much of what I’d done this week was still just activity. Rising early, keeping a schedule, choosing honest words, all of it good, all of it necessary. But none of it is actually the same thing as being still. Stillness isn’t one more item to add to the list. It’s putting the list down.

I’m not good at this yet. My mind keeps running even after my body stops moving. But I’m starting to believe the stillness itself matters, not just whatever I say or do once I finally get there.

So here’s what I’m sitting with as this week closes. When was the last time I was actually still in front of God, not reciting anything, not planning what to say next? Just still.

Today’s Bible Study

There’s a scene in 1 Kings 19 that’s been sitting with me all week. Elijah is hiding in a cave, and God passes by. A wind tears the mountains apart. Then an earthquake. Then fire. Scripture says plainly, after each one, that the Lord was not in it. It’s only after all of that, in what one translation calls a still small voice, that Elijah actually hears God speak. I used to think God showed up in the dramatic moments. This passage says something different. He was there the whole time, just not where the noise was. Maybe that’s why stillness isn’t wasted time. It’s where the voice actually is.

Recommended Reading

If this is a thread you want to keep pulling on, Thomas Merton’s Thoughts in Solitude is worth your time. He was a Trappist monk who spent real years in actual silence, and the book is less a how to guide than an honest look at why we avoid stillness in the first place.