“But I remembered that the spirit requires not only a service of work but also a service of waiting. I came to see that in the kingdom of Christ, there are not only times of action but times to refrain from action. And I came to learn that a place of isolation is often the most useful place of all in this diverse world.” L.B. Cowman, Streams in the Desert, 9/24
It’s easy to buy into the lie that stillness equals laziness. That’s probably one of the things I’ve struggled with most over the last few months. There are days when my energy is drained for no apparent reason, and my mind screams at me to get up and do something. There’s a whole list of chores and errands to run, but my body tells me to be still. The lack of physical energy doesn’t ease my guilt over being less than perfect.
I have to remind myself that practicing stillness before God is spiritual work. Sometimes it takes more energy to be still than it does to do physical work. It takes discipline to ignore distractions. I have to remind myself that God takes priority over the laundry and dishes, and that means showing grace to both me and my family. Yet it’s in the stillness that I find clarity.
Now I find that my body forces me to be still. When I worked full time, finding moments of stillness seemed impossible. Looking back, I realize that practicing stillness around others is possible, something I often missed and was lousy at practicing. God is beginning to show me that stillness and quiet, even among others, are a gift.
In “The Listening Life”, Adam McHugh tells the story of a young Quaker who felt called to a specific mission field and was trying to make some difficult choices. She formed a “clearness committee” of close friends she trusted. Their job was to ask questions, listen, and then sit in silence. They didn’t give advice. They didn’t try to fix anything. They didn’t help her make plans. How many of us have even one friend to do just that: ask questions, listen, and wait? How many of us have a friend who will sit with us in the stillness while we wrestle with difficult decisions and circumstances?
Right now, I find myself in one of those waiting times. The waiting time is frustrating and exhausting. It’s a reminder that I’m not in control, and that I am not perfect. I’m daily challenged to leave the circumstances in God’s hands, when it would be so much more comfortable to take it all back, which is pride and my need for control. I’m learning to be thankful for the times of stillness and waiting, even when it’s forced. I’m learning that there is value in stillness, even if those around me don’t see it.
