Be still

Philip Yancey, in his book, Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference, reminds us to "be still, and know that I am God." To be still, and vacate the throne of trying to control all our stuff, all our life, as a god, and turn to God entrhoned.

Being still is not easy for me. I constantly try to juggle all the balls of being wife, mother, pastor, friend, responsible member of certain groups, responsible citizen, recycler, environmentalist, on and on and on, infinatum. I try to cast my vision out to anticipate what will be coming down the road and plan appropriate action. But I find myself overwhelemed by the sheer enormity of it all.

Like a slap in the face, I remember the importance of changing my prayer a few years ago from "God, bless what we are doing here" to "God, help us be a part of what you are doing here." God is already here. God is already in the midst of all my juggling balls. I can even imagine a divine wry smile cracking the fabric of Creation, God gently watching me struggle to keep all the plates spinning at one time, and waiting to catch my eye to let me know that I don't have to keep them all spinning.

God is not a jukebox in the sky for me to put my quarters (prayers) in and get my selection. God is the very music itself reaching down into the very marrow of my being, seeking to help tune me so that I can play in harmony with all of God's Creation.

Gracious, Loving God, help me to be still in your presence, so that I can hear the wonders of your music and become a vital part of your orchestra of praise.