BE STILL

Be still and know that I am God. Psalm 46:10a

I commented to the ladies at the Grace Women's brunch Saturday that I really needed to take this passage to heart.  That I had been so busy lately, was feeling so tired and strung out, that I just needed to pause a minute and consider anew that God is sovereign, that God is indeed God.

I once heard a pastor explain that the expression "be still" used here in Psalm 46 could be better translated, "SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP!"  The language is forceful, emphatic.  God is not saying, "Now, Sweetie, you've been running a bit too hard lately and you just need to slow down, take a few deep breaths, and remember - I'm still in control!"  No, it's more like He's saying, "Stop right there!  Don't move a muscle.  Nope, don't even make a peep.  Listen to me, foolish child: I AM GOD."

So I thought about Psalm 46:10 on Saturday, but apparently I didn't quite get the message.  Just a few more things to check off my list, a few more errands to run, dinner to cook, preparations for Sunday...soon, some day soon, yeah, I would "be still" and remember that the LORD is God.

I didn't quite get the message, so God made me be still.  Pinned me to the mat.  Laid me flat on my back Sunday.

Literally.

All day long.

It's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull, and cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull...

I suppose most people respond to the onset of a migraine in pretty much the same way:  "GOD, please make the pain stop!  Just make it go away!"

I've learned after a few trips through this valley that God doesn't bring pain just so that He can take it away the first time I whimper.  No, He has some other, bigger purpose for the pain - something that He wants to teach me, not by taking the pain away, but by taking me through it.

So I lay in bed yesterday trying very hard not to move.  The slightest stir brought tears and nausea.  And I knew that God was not going to take the pain away.

I also knew that if God wasn't going to make my head stop hurting, that He must be there somewhere in the pain, and that He had something to teach me in it.

So I lay with my eyes closed, barely daring to breathe because even that hurt.  "Jesus, where are you in this?"

"I am right here."  It's as if He stood right beside me, holding out His hand, inviting me to dance.

"This is a very unpleasant dance, Jesus," I thought with a grimace.

I imagined that He only smiled and extended His hand further, to enfold mine.  "Yes.  Now, be still.  Be perfectly still and know that I am God.  I will lead this dance."

There have been a few occasions in my life when I have felt like my hand has touched the hand of God.  When my first child was born, and the next, and the next...  Sitting with my Granddaddy when he died.  And yesterday, lying motionless in a quiet, dark room.

It is such a difficult thing to lie so completely still.

It is such a sweet thing to know that He is God.