“Be Still and Know that I Am God” is the song on my two-year-old son’s lips as we come home from church on Sundays. His Sunday school worship begins with singing it each week. It is a simple song comprised of only these words sung in various pleasing melodies—it’s the kind of song that pulls up a seat and sits a while in your head.
I ask my child to be still so many times, but don’t often practice it myself. It is difficult to sit still with my thoughts. As a mom and wife, I’m geared to always be doing things. Distractions are at my fingers tips. Yet “be still” is what God asks, literally and figuratively.
I struggle in the demand, gentle or otherwise. Maybe that is why I struggle so much with the winter. After the pomp and circumstance of the holidays settle, the months that stretch ahead with shorter daylight and freezing temperatures seem to me like God hitting the pause button.
“Be still and know that I am God” invaded my thoughts unwittingly one afternoon as I snuggled my sleeping toddler. As I listened to his rhythmic breathing, peacefully still in his dreaming, I didn’t dare move a muscle for fear of breaking the spell. It gave me a moment of reflection on the words of the song, and they slowly sank in.
Outside the bitter, crisp winter air was bated. The stillness of a snowfall, the quiet of indoor coziness and calmness associated with endless cups of warm tea drifted through my mind like pages in a book. Winter, I slowly concluded, may be God’s way of giving a season of stillness.
I easily find God in the magnificence of hiking in natural beauty, diving a crystal blue ocean, or the intense happiness of expecting a child. What I have learned, though, is that these high-frequency, big-impact, “wow” moments are no more meaningful than finding him in stillness.
In winter, a literal or figurative season of less intense activity and unfettered quiet that heralds barren trees and sleeping animals, there is an equally powerful moment of awe.
Finding these moments may become even more of a challenge with a new baby on the way, but with my new awareness the quest becomes much more desirable. To find the majesty of God while hiking a mountain, diving below the sea or snuggling with your sleeping child is apparent. Who else could have created such magic? I will now seek to find the same appreciation in the stillness of His seasons, cold or not, because I believe in the words, “Be Still and know that I am God.” I hope to carry this song into the next season of lif