
“Be still and know that I am God.’ Psalm 46:10
As I reflected on this verse and what it means to be still, my thoughts were drawn back to those childhood summers at the beach in Normandy, France, or Margate and Frinton-on-Sea, England. It was a rare moment when I set foot in the frigid waters of the English Channel or the North Sea.
I remember one particular summer when, for some reason, my Dad took it upon himself to tackle swimming lessons. Beginning with the basics, he taught me – I should say, tried to teach me – how to float on my back. For those of you who are expert swimmers, this might seem like a small feat. But my natural instinct was to tense up rather than trust the very waters that had knocked me under more than once.
“Relax your muscles,” my Dad kept insisting, placing his hands under me in the water. “You can’t float unless you relax.” Easy to say when your brothers are splashing nearby.
Trust almost feels like an impossibility when life has knocked you down, over and over. Yet God invites us to stop flailing and be still and know (heart, mind, and soul), that He is in control.
My earthly father never promised there wouldn’t be waves.
Neither does my heavenly Father.
But of one thing I could be certain: both of them were ready to catch me.
Deuteronomy 33:27 promises, “The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.”
Those waves that distract and prevent you from resting in His peace have not taken Him by surprise. He knew about them long before you were even born and He will carry you through. Every.
Single.
Wave.
I confess, it’s not easy to be still. My automatic default is to thrash and flounder rather than let go and trust. Distractions sometimes divert my focus. At times, waves threaten to submerge me. Yet it is precisely in those moments that I need to trust my Father all the more.
With His arms underneath me, I am held.
I am secure.
I am sustained.
I am free to live life on the peaceful side of the storm.
Prayer: Heavenly Father, teach me how to trust you, fully, completely. Remind me to rest when my whole being wants to respond to life’s swells. Help me put away all those distractions that turn my focus of your presence. Teach me to be still and know that you are God; not just in my mind but in every fiber of my being. Amen.
Thought: “I (Peter) now know where doubt comes from. I know where fear comes from. It does not come from not seeing the storm around me; it comes from not seeing who stands beside me Whenever I feel myself sinking once again, I know I am not seeing my Lord correctly.” – Larry Hunstsperger, The Fisherman.
Discover more from Author Renee Vajko Srch
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