This seems to be God’s recurring message to me, which is a clear indication that I’m not following directions.
Being still is contrary to my nature. Even when I’m still, my foot’s tapping, my leg’s swinging, I’m doodling, and/or counting ceiling or floor tiles. Sitting in a movie theatre can be excrutiating because a) I can’t talk and b) I can’t move around. Keeping my brain still is most difficult when my head and the pillow meet, and I have six hours between me and morning.
Naturally, what does God want from me?
Not just in my little physical jumping bean self, but in my frenetic mental gymnastics: jumping to conclusions, leaping over assumptions, skating over thin ice. . .
God’s voice is quiet. Not intended to be heard above the din of my chaotic attempts to control my life.
I was still, though, long enough to hear Him say: “If you’d get out of my way, I wouldn’t have to do things to make you move.”
photo credit:www.baytrust.org.uk/assets/images/stillness.jpg
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