Resting in Sacred Quietness: Living Psalm 46:10
There are moments in life when the clamor of the world seems relentless, when anxieties crowd the mind and the heart stirs with unanswered questions. In such times, the words from Psalm 46:10—“Be still, and know that I am God”—echo softly, yet powerfully, like a gentle invitation to step away from the tumult and come into a place of quiet assurance.
For me, this verse is like a doorway into a sacred hush. It reminds me that stillness is not just the absence of noise, but the presence of something greater—a divine calm that settles restless thoughts and soothes weary souls. To be still is to acknowledge that, even when life feels unsteady, there is One who remains unshakable.
Learning the Language of Stillness
Stillness, in my journey of faith, has never been effortless. My mind often races with “what ifs” and “what nexts,” eager to solve every problem or anticipate every turn. Yet, in the quiet, I am reminded that my strength is not found in frantic striving, but in resting. Stillness is an act of trust—an intentional decision to pause, breathe, and remember that God’s presence is my true home.
I have found that setting aside moments each day for quiet reflection—whether through prayer, reading, or simply gazing out the window—re-centers me. In these moments, I sense God’s nearness, His gentle reassurance that I do not bear my burdens alone. There is a divine invitation here: to step back, to loosen my grip, to let God be God.
Trusting God’s Quiet Power
Psalm 46:10 does not ask us to ignore the chaos around us. The psalmist paints a world trembling with uncertainty—nations in uproar, kingdoms falling, the earth giving way. Yet, amid this upheaval, God’s voice calls us to stillness. The quiet is not a retreat from reality, but a declaration of trust: God is at work, His purposes unfolding, even when I cannot see the path ahead.
This kind of trust is not passive resignation. It is an active surrender—the willingness to lay down my anxieties and let God’s sovereignty be the anchor of my soul. When I release my need for control and open my hands, I discover a strength that is not my own—a quiet confidence that God is both present and powerful.
The Practice of Quiet Confidence
There is a particular beauty in the spiritual practice of stillness, echoed in Isaiah 30:15: “In quietness and confidence shall be your strength.” Here, I learn that true resilience is born in silent trust, not in self-reliance. The world may urge busyness and constant motion, but Scripture points toward another way—a life marked by rhythms of rest and reflection.
In my own practice, I have found that stillness is cultivated not only through silence but through attentiveness. It is in listening—to my breath, to the hum of creation, to the whisper of God’s Spirit—that I become more present. I am reminded that God often speaks in gentle whispers, and to hear, I must quiet the inner noise. Sometimes, it is in the most unremarkable moments—a cup of tea, the hush of dusk—that God’s presence becomes most tangible.
Obstacles and Invitations
Many obstacles to stillness are internal. My own restless thoughts, worries about tomorrow, and the temptation to fill every silence with activity often crowd out peace. Yet, each time I choose to be still, I find that God meets me with compassion rather than condemnation. The invitation is always open: “Come, rest. Be held by my faithfulness.”
Stillness is a discipline, but it is also a gift—a gentle rhythm that can be practiced through prayer, scripture meditation, or simply sitting in God’s presence. Mindfulness, for me, is not about emptying my mind, but about filling it with the assurance of God’s steadfast love. It is about surrender—releasing my fears, my expectations, and my need to control outcomes, resting instead in the knowledge that God is sovereign.
Discovering Peace in Surrender
Over time, I have witnessed how stillness transforms my perspective. When I surrender the illusion of control, I am freed from the tyranny of worry. In quietness, I sense a deep well of peace—a peace that does not depend on circumstances but on the constancy of God. Even in life’s storms, I am anchored by the promise that God is with me, working all things for good.
This posture of quiet trust has become a lifeline in seasons of uncertainty. It does not always come easily, but with practice, I have learned to return, again and again, to the sacred silence where God waits. Each moment of stillness becomes a declaration: I am not alone. The God who holds the universe holds me, too.
Conclusion: Living the Invitation
Ultimately, “Be still, and know that I am God” is less a command than an invitation—one that beckons me to relinquish striving and rest in the love and sovereignty of my Creator. In the quiet, I remember who God is: exalted among the nations, victorious over chaos, steadfast in love.
By embracing stillness, I learn to trust—not as a last resort, but as a daily practice. In every season, the sacred call to be still becomes a source of strength and hope. It is here, in the gentle hush of God’s presence, that I discover what it means to truly know and be known, to rest in the assurance that whatever comes, God is always near.
Minister A Francine Green
September 2025
afrancinegreen.com 