In a world tangled in urgency, you can step off the flow of the current.
It isn't grand. It's no trumpet of resistance. No proclamation. It's just a moment, a breath, deep and unhurried. And in that breath, you'll feel the fracture in the rhythm of the world around you, the chasm between rush and rest, between existence and being.
They don’t tell you stillness is a revolution.
Not the loud, marching kind. Not the sword-swinging kind. But the kind that dares to look time in the eye and say: No. You do not own me.
Is hurry our master, is rushing was king? Are mornings devoured by blinking notifications? Nights haunted by the weight of undone things? To be busy seems to be important. To be exhausted seems was to make us worthy.
But scripture teaches us that the soul was not built for speed.
It bruises quietly, under the weight of constant doing.
Now Imagine you walking slower.
Tasting your coffee without distraction.
Letting silence hum between your thoughts.
Imagine no longer running from the gaps between moments,
but instead, dwelling in them.
Stillness is not absence.
It is not laziness or lack.
Stillness is presence.
It is the gentle art of paying attention. To the flicker of sunlight across the table. To the whisper of wind tracing the trees. To the laughter echoing two streets away. Stillness gathers these things, cradles them, makes meaning of them. In stillness, life is no longer blurred at the edges.
And yes, the world still spins wildly.
Emails pile, headlines shout, clocks tick.
But We do not answer their call with the same desperation.
We've tasted something slower, something sacred.
We've known Jesus. And his ways.
We've learned that Being Still and knowing he is God is not merely about changing schedules, it is about changing allegiance. It is about bowing to the Lord as King, not the tyranny of time.
So today, or tomorrow, or the next day
Sit in your chair a moment longer.
Listen to the silence until it sings.
Because stillness is not where life pauses.
It's where God meets us.
