Gotta admit, sometimes I have to be still because I’m just speechless. It doesn’t happen often enough, but let’s take advantage of it while we can, yes?
Okay, moment’s over. Let me explain my reticence:
I’ve been lurking around on someone’s blog and her story struck such a chord that I can’t find words to even say anything to her. Like, “You have an awesome voice and an awesome blog.” Or, “Those voices you hear? They’re really Satan’s attempt to break you. Don’t let him.” Because those things seem to minimize what she goes through. And none of them lets her know that God is there through it all, even if she doesn’t feel Him or hear Him or want Him.
Maybe I’m speechless because I know some (a very little) of what she fights. Crippling fear. Can’t leave the house or tell even my best friend what’s going on inside me. Can’t stand the sight of myself in the mirror. Can’t beat back the mean little voices that scream inside my head that I’m not enough, can never be enough, should just stop trying. And suddenly I’m paralyzed in the middle of a bloodbath with arrows and swords and bullets slinging away, and I have no defense.
And yet I do.
To be still before God is a powerhouse of activity. Not my activity. This is not my battle, and the sooner I recognize it, the sooner I give Him room to fight, the sooner I will be delivered. The truth is that I’m a spoil of war. In Ephesians 2:10, Paul says we are God’s masterpiece, so the attack on my well-being is meant for God. To realize the incredible weight of my prayers – or godly silence – takes the battle to another level entirely, and takes me out of the war zone.
I will be still and know that He is God.
He is love. He is mercy. He is grace. He is my strong tower, my refuge, my rock, and my redeemer. He is power. He is God. I will be still… again.
Will you confess it with me again? What do you hear when you’re still before God?