Carry Quiet: Spiritual Rhythms for Loud Seasonsનમૂનો

From Jen

God tells us to "be still" in the middle of crumbling mountains and roaring waters. Not after the chaos. During it.

I often confuse stillness with inactivity.

I'll run through a morning of back-to-back Zoom calls straight into an afternoon of errands and homework assignments. Tired and stretched thin, I think what I need most is to stop. A nap. A canceled meeting. A moment with no one asking for a snack, or asking about what’s for dinner. Stillness, right?

But then I get that rare silence and I'm still spinning on the inside. Sound familiar?

You can be inactive and not still.

Have you ever sat down while your mind raced with unfinished tasks and loose ends? Or stood frozen in a moment, not because you're at peace but because your heart is pounding and your thoughts won't stop spiraling?

This is exactly what makes Psalm 46 so remarkable. It's often quoted for one powerful verse:

"Be still, and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10a ESV)

But that verse isn't dropped into a peaceful retreat. The psalm opens with crumbling mountains, roaring waters, nations in uproar, and kingdoms falling. Trouble. Crisis. Unrest.

And yet:

God…

Our refuge. Fortress. Strength. Very present help in trouble.

Then comes the invitation: "Be still, and know that I am God."

Not after everything settles.

Not when you finish your checklist or achieve some perfect moment of quiet.

God speaks in the middle of the madness.

Because He's already there.

The kind of stillness God offers isn't escape. It's presence. His presence. Peace doesn't come from finally getting everything under control. It comes when we shift our focus. When we trust Him, not just with the big picture but with what's right in front of us. That's where true quiet begins—not in our circumstances, but in our souls, even when everything outside still feels loud.

Real spiritual stillness doesn't depend on the chaos disappearing. It depends on where we look.

So what does biblical stillness actually look like in practice? It's the space between trigger and response.

Be. Start where you are. In the minivan. The office. The kitchen. Whisper a prayer as you wash dishes or unload groceries. Stop looking for an exit ramp from the noise and start noticing where God meets you in it. When something threatens to pull you into reactionary mode—a spilled drink, a harsh email, an unexpected crisis—pause. You don't have to respond from that first jolt of emotion. Choose presence over panic.

Still. Be purposefully still. This isn't about doing nothing. It's focused, holy attention. Even when your body is moving, your soul can be at rest. Interrupt the mayhem with a moment of awareness: God is here.

Know. Know that He is God. Not you. Not the schedule. Not the storm. This knowing isn't mental trivia. It's a deep trust. A shift of focus. We don't find peace by pretending storms don't happen. We find it by turning to the One who speaks to the wind and the waves and makes them obey.

You don't have to find quiet before you find God. Find Him, and in Him, you’ll find quiet.

Spiritual Rhythm: Be. Notice the noise. Still. Pause and breathe. Know. He is there with you. Ask Him for what you need. Thank God for who He is, and for being there with you.

Tomorrow reveals a counterintuitive goal that offers life-long freedom.