Maybe not a word that brings happy thoughts? Perhaps a word that brings thoughts of inactivity due to illness, times when you are just too fatigued to move forward, or simply a much needed rest. it can evoke many images, some unwelcome and others strangely comforting.
But I’m talking about a strategic stillness – one we choose to create for us to take time to reflect, to ponder, to pray, to listen for God’s voice…to choose to be STILL. We are all aware that retirement most likely brings more opportunity for stillness because the hectic pace of employment no longer has us in its grip. We can carve out a much more diverse schedule predicated on the idea that we actually have some control over our schedule now.
So what does strategic stillness look like? Do we even want it? Or do we prefer to fill our days with lots of tasks, leisure activities, productivity, social engagements? Does stillness scare us? We certainly have not been groomed to pursue it in our lives, but instead to only feel like our day has been good if we been in a frenzy most of it and collapse into bed in the evening.
Strategic stillness – stillness we pursue, stillness we desire, stillness we don’t shy away from. Personality may have something to do with our pursuit of stillness – some prefer those quiet moments when you have no interruptions, no commitments, no demands put on you. Others see stillness as a waste of time or an excuse to avoid responsibilities and productivity. Others embrace it as a necessary part of the day, the only way to get grounded before the hours begin ticking off.
I’m in the last category – I can hardly go a day if deprived of stillness. And heaven forbid that I go several days without stillness – my soul is craving it. It’s why I get up early in the morning – stillness in the house, those quiet hours before the sun tells us it’s time to get going, no TV, no phone, no intrusion into your space. I walk every day and happen to live in a neighborhood with very little traffic, rarely a barking dog, and only occasionally another walker out as the sun is rising. I also live by a church with an outdoor chapel and sometimes walk there to sit and pray…and simply enjoy the quiet of nature, punctuated by gentle birdsong or the wind ruffling the leaves.
And my favorite thing to do in the stillness is to listen…inside, in the dead of winter, I grab a hot cup of coffee, get settled and begin to listen for God’s voice, to listen for memories that bring a smile to my face, to even listen to my list for the day as I seek order to work, family, chores and errands. I write thoughts down that come to me, little nuggets I can look at later during the day and ponder. I listen for the desires of my heart to pop up and see what direction they take me. I listen. And I sit still.
Outside I listen to the sounds of nature – a delicate breeze, a strong wind, the birds carrying on their conversations among the trees, the bark of a dog walking by, even the interstate far away whose constant hum reaches my neighborhood set on a hill. On mornings that threaten rain, I watch for lightening and listen for the rumble of thunder. And even though I’m walking, there is a stillness that surrounds me as the world actually comes to life.
And I’m big on pondering. Taking time to actually think through the challenges in my life, or time to create a menu that I can enjoy preparing, or plan a trip that is coming, or begin to create solutions to current ministry problems.
And the best is the quiet time to pray, to focus my attention on the most important parts of my life and ask God, in the stillness, to show me what to pray. I can lose my way, often, as most of us do – get distracted in the stillness by thoughts that invade the quiet, but the stillness always brings me back to that place where I can pray and listen.
I think I used to be afraid of stillness – maybe time with my own thoughts wasn’t really that desirable, or listening for God’s voice was too threatening, or maybe I thought if I had time to be still I wasn’t living life to the fullest. And heaven forbid that stillness becomes my way of life! But now I pursue stillness, I treasure stillness, it brings me life and joy. Without it I believe my days would turn into a chaotic mess, I would walk in troubled waters instead of peace, I would lose my way in the midst of daily life and make more mistakes than I do now. In the midst of this strategic stillness I find the strength to live my day based on a solid foundation of order and peace, but also the strength to face the unpredictable but often interesting twists and turns that inevitably lie ahead. “Be still and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10
