My grandparents owned a bookstore. On shelves, tables, displays, were books of all kinds. I curled up with them in a soft leather chair. They taught me things, those words, and grew me up into the woman I am now. Yet in the end they remained on their pages.
I knew in that store, in this world, only one book not only opened but breathed. God’s words were unlike those penned just by people. Each one was like a Genesis unto itself—a glorious creation ever changing, yet mysteriously always the same.
I finished my counseling internship yesterday. Over breakfast my wise mentor Jan spoke these words into my hurried life not knowing how much I need to hear them…
Be still, and know that I am God.
Then at the end of the day I met with my supervisor, Terry. He told me, spontaneously, a story of two candles and how the one that does not move and flicker sheds more light in the end.
Be still, and know that I am God.
Later visiting facebook I dropped a quick note about crossing this finish line. And, Grace, who often comes to these pages wrote the essence of these words in reply…
Be still and know that I am God.
Different voices but the source is the same—God echoing the words printed in His book and bringing them into my world again, all fresh and full of life. Telling me what I need this moment, gently, asking me to hear Him even in the midst of the noise.
It is a choice we make every day.
This time I heed, become quiet, listen to living words.
I am still and I know that He is God.
