Hello, God, Remember Me?

The Quiet Seasons of Change Are Seasons of the Most Significant Growth

Be still, and know that I am God! — Psalm 46:10

Be still. Be still?

It seems to me that if God knew He would be calling me to the occasional seasons of “being still” throughout my life, He would have thrown in a dash or two of meditating monk vibes when creating my inner spirit. Instead, I have the inner workings of an unfocused hyperactive squirrel bouncing from tree to tree, trying to rally my fellow tree-hopping rodent friends for the next great adventure.

If God KNEW what my life would hold — and He does — then why create me in such a way that is the polar opposite of what He calls me to do? Why call me to write books when it is so hard for me? Why not give that calling to the girl down the street who has journaled every day of her life, makes long, detailed lists for what she will do that day, and takes meticulous notes at church and parent-teacher meetings? That girl loves and thrives on the written word.

God has a thing for choosing those who feel, and even are, unqualified. When God calls us to things we don’t understand or to things that feel foreign and difficult to us, it’s no mistake. There is always a lesson and blessin’ in it. (Okay, too much?) What I mean to say is that when He puts us through particularly challenging things, something good always comes out of it — if we let it.

One of my most difficult callings was simply to “be still” or, as I like to call it, to endure a season of agonizing-directionless-hushed-stillness.

Awhile back, God called me — or shall I say dragged me — into a period of agony that lasted for what I thought was about eighty-seven years, though when I consulted the calendar, I could see it was more like a year and a half. I know I keep saying “called me,” so let me explain that a little.

We all “hear” God in different ways, but for me, I mostly hear Him in the voice of my mind, in a gut feeling, or in the occasional dream. Trying to articulate to others why you know something is from God is downright hard. I know when God is calling me into something and when He isn’t. But telling others how we know it’s Him is challenging, especially when we doubt ourselves at every turn.

But in this case, for this season, it was the opposite of hearing a “calling.” My mind, my gut, and my dreams were completely devoid of a call to action or a nudge to move. In fact, it was devoid of anything at all, and the only thing I felt from God over and over and over was Him saying, “Be still.” Which was ridiculous. He couldn’t make me the way He did and then ask me to be still; it was a contradiction, a conflict of interest. Surely, He meant this message for anyone else but me.

But no matter how hard I prayed and how much I fought it, I heard nothing but the utterly absurd “be still” with the occasional “and know that I am God.”

There are times when God feels so relatable and responsive that I can pull up a chair and have coffee with Him and have a deep, detailed discussion about why He made peonies (my favorite flower next to hydrangeas) so beautiful but does not let them grow or bloom in the panhandle of Florida. Or why He made sugar so sweet and delicious, but it’s bad for the very bodies He created. Other days I feel closer on a more visceral level, like I can just place my head on His lap, close my eyes, and let His gentle hand glide over my hair — and with each stroke comes a promise that everything is perfect. I hear Him again and again, day after day, and experiencing that closeness makes just about anything possible because, after all, God is with me. It wouldn’t matter if I were changing a tire on a car (well, making the phone call and then standing nearby offering helpful suggestions to whoever showed up to help me) or writing a book — He is there and all things are possible.

But what happens when we don’t feel the closeness of God? What happens when the only thing we feel Him saying to us is “be still,” or worse, when we don’t hear Him at all? If you’re me, you cry. A lot. And you get depressed, change into your 1998 gray-striped Walmart nightgown accented with numerous holes of varying sizes created from 789 washings, crawl into bed, and watch countless hours of ridiculous TV and pout.

However, even I can only pout for so long. When I found myself several months into the season of agonizing-directionless-hushed-stillness, I knew I needed to dig a little deeper into what being still actually meant.

*

Despite all that God had done for me, not just with the book but with my whole life — His love for me during the loss of my child, my rape, the cancer, and so much more — I was so quick to wonder if He had suddenly forgotten me. I was a little like the Israelites coming out of Egypt. They had just witnessed insanely awesome miracles from God, camping at the base of a mountain where God was at the top, and yet they decided to make a golden cow to worship. Okay, maybe I wasn’t that bad, but I was close.

But God hadn’t forgotten me. In fact, looking back, now I can tell you that it was one of the most precious times of my life, and God showed His love for me in such a deep and profound way that it set my life on course for something beautiful.

Let me explain. Have you ever been around a child, a teen, or even an adult who is really tired and refuses to admit it? They see things negatively, they don’t reason well, and everything seems so much worse and heavier than it really is? But you know, as you’re watching this tired child/adult, that if they would just go to bed and rest for a little while, the entire world would be different to them when they wake up.

That’s us.

• Sometimes what we need more than anything is rest.

When we have these seasons when God calls us to be still, it is because He knows us even better than we know ourselves. He loves us so much that He wants us to stop and to rest. And not just rest, but to rest IN HIM.

Did you know that God loves us so much that He literally commands us to rest? He created the Sabbath, an actual day of rest in the commandments, which most Christians today acknowledge as Sunday. The Bible says He “blessed the Sabbath day and set it apart as holy” (Exodus 20:11). He commands you to rest and He knows exactly how much time you need; He knows how many days you need to be still and rest in Him to replenish your worn-out, broken, and tired body and mind.

*

God has miracles in store for you. He has blessings coming for you that you can’t possibly imagine or fathom. But He needs you ready for those blessings. He needs you ready for the next thing, and in order for that to happen, you need rest. You need to recharge, and you need to pour into your soul, your mind, and your body. Remember, a season of rest is not because you are forgotten or He doesn’t love you; it’s because He does love you.

He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit, and he prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more. — John 15:2

There are times in our lives that almost feel as if we are in our own little winter. A cold, hard season of feeling bare. As if everything about you is hard and frozen and there is no way you can grow anything, let alone bloom or shine again. You feel dry and weary like a brittle branch. Sometimes we become so familiar with these feelings that we believe this is normal; this is life. But God knows better and knows what we need, even when we don’t. He knows that seasons of rest and being still are like water to the dry places of our souls. He will water your dry bones so you may come alive again, I promise you.

Excerpted with permission from Midlife Battle Cry by Dawn Barton, copyright W Publishing.

* * *

Your Turn

God has so much goodness planned for your life. If He’s asking you to rest, to be still, take Him up on it. The quiet seasons He’s given me have been some of the best gifts of my life because I promise, it will all look better after a good rest! ~ Laurie McClure, Faith.Full