Be Still

In moments of clarity, when all the world and everything in it ebbs away, leaving only the silent sound and presence of God, I marvel that Christ and the Christian life can have been so humanly tampered with—as if we could improve upon it—and at the same time, also be so humanly ignored.

I am amazed at how often I choose the inner world of myself over God and others.

I stand in wonderment looking out the window of the past, fat with answered prayers and God’s constant, gentle—and not so gentle—correction that saved me, at times, from some embarrassing and severe consequences, and allowed me, at other times, to experience those consequences because it was the only way I would ever learn, and thus, transform.

This is what I contemplate on this angelically-still aqua-pink morning, after waking to a pristine full moon suspended directly out my apartment window. 

Now the city, too, begins to wake. The golden light of the sun, rising opposite of the moon, surrounds the skyline in a warm burnish, the moon growing larger and a deeper yellow as it slowly sinks to the horizon. 

The words, “all is calm, all is bright” come to mind. The sereneness of God’s new day; the radiating of His rising sun and setting moon.

This new beginning of life, it happens every day. Not ever in the exact same way, but it comes. 

It is ours to birth in, over and over and over again: God’s gift of a clean slate; His amazing grace.

And in that I cease striving and am still, and know that God is God. (Psalm 46:10). 

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:4-7



copyright Barb Harwood