It's officially winter (it comes late here in the south). A quick look out my bedroom window shows me our tall, deciduous trees waving precariously back and forth in the wind—naked and barren. I miss their regal robes of green. I miss the birds singing in their branches. I miss how the leaves hide our house from the road, burying us behind their foliage. Truth be told, I'm not a big fan of winter. Something about the stillness, the cold, and the waiting for spring makes me feel a bit anxious . . . patience is not my strong suit. I'm all about the bursting forth in new song, the birth of something new and exciting. Winter is quiet.
To compensate for the hush that seems to be all around us, I find that we humans have a tendency to create noise. All of creation seems to scream: be still! And yet we sign ourselves up for programs and activities and fill up every available slot of time with our routines and initiatives. We reject the natural ebb and flow of the seasons God has put in place and aim for a constant delivery of entertainment and mind-numbing doing.
"In the secret, in the quiet place. In the stillness, you are there. In the secret, in the quiet hour I wait, only for you. Because I want to know you more."
—In the Secret by Andy Park
It turns out I seem to be one of the worst culprits . . . like Martha I find myself constantly doing things for the Lord, and at times feeling disturbingly distant from Him. This feeling is my check and balance; like an alarm system built into my spirit it yells that something is wrong. Perhaps this is why this old Vineyard song seems to be on repeat: in the stillness you are there. God is not distant, I just sometimes become too busy to hear Him, to look for Him, or to just sit at His feet.
When the Lord called us into ministry, I had some concerns of my own. I have watched ministry families fall apart. I have watched children who are dragged from one worship service to the next walk away from their faith and break their parent's hearts. I have watched big-name speakers and leaders rise to the mountaintop only to fall to the lowest point and lose themselves in the process. I did not want to be a cautionary tale of the pitfalls that seem dangerously close on all sides. I did not want to do my work as a laborer in the vineyard but lose everything that was precious to me. And so the Lord is faithful to remind me. When I get swept up into visionary mode and run too far and too fast, He draws me back to winter once more. The fear of the Lord grips me until I cannot bear to take another step without knowing that He is with me.
We can do all the right things for all the right reasons, and yet still miss it. God desires a personal relationship with us. He desires intimacy and friendship. This must be our chief goal and aim and it is not purchased through our accomplishments . . . it is cultivated in the secret, still winter seasons when our roots are forced to go deep and ground us in Him.
Have you forgotten? Have you, like all of us at times, gotten a little lost along the way? When was the last time you heard His voice or felt His presence? When was the last time you slowed down and asked Him what you should do? When was the last time you opened your Bible or meditated on His word? He is calling you back to communion, my friend. Can you hear Him?
Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!
—Psalm 46:10
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