Be Still
READ
In our hyperconnected world, the phrase "be still" can feel almost offensive. Our phones buzz with notifications, our calendars overflow with commitments, and our minds race with endless to-do lists. Yet here, in the heart of Psalm 46, God whispers an invitation that cuts through the chaos: "Be still."
Let’s take a moment to read Psalm 46:10:
"Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth."
REFLECT
This isn't just about stopping our external activity. The Hebrew word for "be still" is raphah, which means to let go, to release, to cease striving. It's not merely about physical stillness—it's about releasing our white-knuckled grip on control and our frantic efforts to make life work in our own strength.
Think about the last time you tried to thread a needle with shaking hands. The harder you tried, the more frustrated you became, and the more elusive that tiny eye became. Only when you steadied yourself, took a breath, and approached with calm precision could you accomplish the task. This is the heart of preparation—training ourselves to approach God not with the frantic energy of our own efforts, but with the settled confidence of knowing who He is.
The psalmist doesn't just say "be still and try harder" or "be still and figure it out." He says "be still and know that I am God." This knowing isn't intellectual—it's experiential, relational, transformative. It's the kind of knowing that comes from positioning ourselves as students, as apprentices of the One who holds all things together.
Preparation is exactly this: training our hearts, minds, and bodies to be open to God's love, life, and direction. It's creating space to step out of our performance-driven culture and into God's presence-centered kingdom. When we prepare, we're not just making time for God—we're making room for God to be God in our lives.
Consider how athletes prepare for competition. They don't just show up hoping for the best. They train their bodies, study their opponents, and condition their minds. They understand that preparation isn't separate from performance—it makes performance possible. Similarly, spiritual preparation isn't about earning God's favor; it's about positioning ourselves to receive what He's already longing to give.
But here's what's beautiful about biblical preparation: it's not about adding pressure to achieve spiritually. It's about releasing the pressure to achieve at all. When we truly understand that God is God—sovereign, loving, and good—we can let go of our need to control outcomes and manipulate circumstances. We can cease striving because we know who's in charge.
This kind of preparation requires trust. It means believing that God's truth, wisdom, and presence are not just available but are actually the best things for us. In a culture that teaches us to filter everything through our own preferences and experiences, preparation calls us to receive on God's terms, not ours.
The beautiful paradox of Psalm 46:10 is that it's nestled between verses describing earthquakes, wars, and upheaval. God isn't calling us to stillness in the absence of chaos—He's calling us to stillness in the midst of it. This is preparation for real life, not escape from it.
When we learn the art of consecration—setting ourselves apart to encounter God—we discover that preparation isn't about becoming worthy of God's attention. We already have it. Preparation is about becoming available to God's transformation.
RESPOND
Take a moment to process what God might be leading you to do in light of what you read.
What areas of your life feel chaotic or out of control right now? How might "being still" and releasing your grip on these areas change your approach to them?
How has trying to achieve spiritual growth in your own strength created pressure in your relationship with God? What would it look like to release this pressure?
REST
Take a moment to rest in God’s presence and consider one thing you can take away from your time reading, then close your devotional experience by praying:
Father, teach me the sacred art of being still in Your presence. Help me release my need to control and achieve, and instead open my heart to receive Your love, life, and direction. Transform my hurried heart into a prepared heart that trusts You completely. In Jesus' name, Amen.