Be Still, Friend, God’s Talkin’
Well, now, friend, you ever notice how trouble comes sneakin’ right up on you the same way an ol’ hungry raccoon sneaks up on a trash can? Quiet as a whisper at first, then loud enough to wake every hound dog in the county. So, come on over here, pull that front‑porch rocker in real close, give it a little scoot so it don’t wobble like a three‑legged goat tryin’ be walkin’ on a gravel road, and breathe in some good porch air. We’re about to step into somethin’ warm, funny, meaningful, and rooted in Psalm 46:10, where the Lord says, “Be still, and know that I am God.” An’ right alongside it stands Isaiah 30:15, remindin’ us, “In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength.” If that ain’t God tryin’ to get us to slow down, I don’t know what is.
Now, friend, the other mornin’ I was sittin’ outside mindin’ my own business when a squirrel with more attitude than sense came tearin’ across the porch like he was plum late for a mighty important meetin’. An’ right then it hit me. We humans ain’t much different. We scurry. We scramble. We scroll. We spin. We fill every quiet second like we are sho’-nuff’ afraid silence might bite us. But God says be still, not “be busy,” not “be scrollin’,” not “be checkin’ your notifications like a woodpecker tappin’ on a tin roof.” Isaiah 30:15 says quietness and trust are your strength, but we treat quiet like it’s optional instead of essential.
Think about your day, friend. ‘A‑fore your feet ever even hit the floor, your phone is hollerin’ at you like a rooster who done went an’ overslept. Notifications. Emails. News. Social media. The noise starts ‘a‑fore your brain even wakes up real good. An’ every spare moment gets stuffed full. Waitin’ in line? Scroll. Eatin’ lunch? Scroll. Can’t sleep? Scroll. We’ve trained ourselves to need noise like a jittery lil’ raccoon needs mischief.
But Elijah learned in 1 Kings 19:12 that “God was not in the wind, not in the earthquake, not in the fire. He was in a gentle whisper.” An’, friend, you can’t hear a whisper if your soul is stompin’ ‘round like an ol’ bull moose lookin’ for a mud puddle. Stillness is where God gits to speakin’. Quietness is where strength gits to growin’. Trust is where peace gits to settlin’.
Father, thank You for invitin’ me into the stillness. Teach me to quiet my heart, hush my mind, and listen for Your gentle whisper. Help me know You in the quiet places. In Jesus’ mighty Name, Amen.
Now, okie‑dokie there, friend, as you git to steppin’ right on back into the grand circus of your busy day, don’t you go meanderin’ ‘round like a puzzled ol’ porch‑meddlin’ possum starin’ at his own reflection in a tin bucket wonderin’ how he ever got there. You’re called to stillness. You’re invited into peace. An’ when you choose to quiet your soul, even the troubles that come stompin’ in like a bull moose huntin’ for a mud puddle can’t drown out the God who loves you. So, ease on forward with the quiet steadiness of an ol’ barn owl that sho’-nuff’ thinks the whole countryside is watchin’ him glide in flight, and he’s not the least bit bothered by it either. You gotta’ be knowin’ that the God who calls you to be still is also the very same God who meets you in the quiet and steadies every step you take.
With joy,
Gwen
