What It Really Means to “Be Still and Know”
After someone is gone, sometimes it’s the most random memories that keep showing up.
Even today I can feel the sting of disappointment in Mom’s out-of-character sharp tone, “Lay still.” Snuggling next to her in her comfy queen bed for an afternoon nap, I squeezed my eyes shut tight, trying to empty my bouncy mind. (So many unfinished projects, even as a four-year-old.) Every ounce of me tried to comply.
I wanted to.
I promised to.
But “still” has never been my super power.
A SLOW I DON’T KNOW
Unlike some fellow writers I know, writer’s block has never been a problem for me. I have more ideas than time. And with heart failure, I have less awake time than I’d like. So being unproductive—being still—is not a good thing even in the grown-up chapters of my story. (Mom wouldn’t be surprised that I always sleep next to a pad of paper and a reading light in case I want to write in the middle of the night.)
And yet somehow, I’ve always aspired to this:
Be still and know that I am God.
Psalm 46:10, NIV
But turns out, this invitation to “be still” is less about physical stillness and more about ceasing the constant fight. It is a suggestion to stop our human activity and to quiet our hearts, but—maybe mostly—to relinquish our need to control situations.
Psalm 46 was likely written during a time of war. The word “still” is a translation of the Hebrew word “raphah,” meaning in battle “to slacken, let down, or cease.” Only after the striving (and stressing) have stopped can warriors acknowledge their dependence on a more powerful God.
In parenting classes, we taught about a loose hold that parents can do with a tantrum-throwing child. To keep them from hurting themselves or others. Just loosely wrapping around until they stop fighting. This is a picture of what “still “is: when we stop struggling and rest in His arms.
Sometimes this doing nothing is the most important thing we can do.
From my journal:
Today’s echo showed my EF is still at 20%, six months after the latest downturn. Despite hours of prayer and following all the top medical advice, it’s stuck at that low level. I asked my Cleveland Clinic cardiologist what we could do to help move the needle upward. Her answer: Nothing. Rest and wait to see if I slip into transplant status. With everything we’ve tried over the last eight years, medications and surgeries and procedures, this feels like the most difficult order she’s ever given me.
God asks us to be still, too, but we avoid it at all cost. Because inaction says too much— about us, about our own power, about Him.
Years of chronic illness have taught me that we don’t always have to pray until the walls fall down. We don’t always have to beg until there are no words left. Because in that school, it depends on us. And the “it” is endless striving while the world refuses to right itself. What if simply being still is what God is asking of us? What if He knew that—at least for some of us—being still would be the biggest challenge of all?
LAYING OUR LITTLE SELVES DOWN
Though I felt like Mom was punishing me with daily naps, she knew that pauses are holy work. Stillness requires faith in a bigger God. Rest can be an act of worship, recognizing that He is in control and we are not. It is an exercise in recounting how He has shown up for us in the past when we humanly couldn’t go on.
Rest can be an act of worship, recognizing that He is in control and we are not. It is an exercise in recounting how He has shown up for us in the past when we humanly couldn’t go on.
Lori Ann Wood
I don’t remember napping with my own toddlers or preschoolers. I think I was using that naptime to “get some things done.” (Obviously. Mom was always better at this whole trusting God thing than I’ve ever been.) But I do remember my kids learning to float. And their absolute amazement when they realized that the key to not drowning was laying still, in what feels like a vulnerable position, and stop fighting the water. The behavior that could save their lives was a posture of trustful surrender instead of tougher striving.
Though it’s a big ask for a four-year-old to be still, it’s even more difficult for us big people who are so busy forming careers, and molding children, and mending the lives of others. We’ve seen too much, we know too much, and we feel too much responsibility.
Being still takes a big dose of trust and committed vulnerability. Even when it feels counter-intuitive and even unfair. Only in being still, maybe forced at first, do we grasp that we are not in control of our lives. And only there can we fully appreciate—or perhaps realize for the first time—Who is.
Only in being still, maybe forced at first, do we grasp that we are not in control of our lives. And only there can we fully appreciate—or perhaps realize for the first time—Who is.
Lori ann wood
A SENSE OF KNOWING
“Still” requires more than just slowing down or putting ourselves into idle. It takes even more than surrender. At some level, it requires knowing. Maybe that’s the biggest thing I was missing during those early nap days. I could never figure out what to think about while trying to “lay still.”
This is what it looks like to be still and know that God is in control. It’s prayerfully shushing the swirling what-ifs and replacing them with faith in God’s goodness.
Emily Krill
God gently urges us toward this elusive stillness not only in Psalm 46 but also in  Exodus 14:14 where He promises that if we are still, He will fight for us. 1 Samuel 12:16 bids us to stand still so we can see what He’s going to do, and Psalm 37:7 reminds us to be still, experience His presence, and wait patiently for Him.
Each time, it’s more of a wake-up call to be in awe than a command to mindless rest. Rather than just opening up empty space in your head, it is filling it with a knowing. And sometimes that takes some work: some reliving, some re-reading, some remembering.
Be still. Remember who God is. And remember who you are. Then do your best to live without getting the order mixed up.
Tyler Staton
Be still AND…Be still and remember who God is, be still and sidestep fear, be still and see what God is doing, be still and acknowledge his greatness, be still and recall His love, be still and truly experience God with you.
A DIFFERENT KIND OF “STILL”
The hard truth is, sometimes even after getting a handle on the “be still,” we have to deal with the “even still.” Still hoping, still praying, still waiting, still wondering. Even when we get good at surrendering to God’s control, detours don’t resolve in the time we’d like them to. Or even in the way we want them to. We remain still and problems persist…even still.
Although most of the Spirit’s use of “be still” appears in the Old Testament, God’s own Son used the phrase:
And He got up and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Hush, be still.” And the wind died down and it became perfectly calm.
Mark 4:39, NASB
It’s no coincidence that the words of Psalm 46:10 are the same words Jesus used on the recurring waves. As if to say to his apostles…I am in control, but not in YOUR control. This may not all turn out the way you envision. Storms will come again. Though he stilled the sea, the apostles saw their powerful friend still die a demeaning death and they later faced their own painful ends.
But the beauty is, the “be still” can get us through the “even still.”
The “be still” can get us through the “even still.”
lori ann wood
That nap memory has somehow endured the years, though so much else has faded away. I now know Mom was pregnant with my little brother at the time, and wanting us both to get a short nap in before the older kids got home from school. She never went to bed at night with an empty to-do list, or a resolved prayer list, but she never went to bed without being still before God either. And that’s left an even stronger impression on me than her naptime admonishment.
God is in His place and we are in ours. The world still struggles, but we can safely surrender to His care.
Like a good parent to a squirmy, driven, dearly-loved, four-year-old, God whispers:
I’ve got this. You can be still even though things are still unfinished.
And there’s a certain comfort in that.
I saw you speak at WWWG this year and was amazed by your story and relate to it more than you know. I’ve sat at the doctors’ offices and heard the words, “We don’t know how to help.” My husband has a birth defect called Arnold Chiari Malformation. They normally find this in small children and they can repair it and move on. Unfortunately, they did not catch his and so a football injury in HS was how he found out he had it. They did three surgeries in 1 weekend and one was botched so badly that it left him with no feeling in his right arm and no color vision except for black, white and gray but his life was spared. Years later he started having pain in the arm he can’t feel out of. They diagnosed him as having phantom limb syndrome even though his arm is still there. In 2009, after dealing with horrible chronic pain for years and seeing 9 different doctors who all told us there was nothing they could do for him, we finally found one willing to try a spinal cord stimulator. It worked! He was pain free and has remained so up until this year when the leads suddenly stopped working. We are now trying to find a doctor willing to go in and replace the leads. They are worried that if they get too close to the spinal cord, he could be paralyzed for the rest of his life. I say all that just to tell you how much I needed this today. I am in fight mode and have been searching the internet night and day looking for answers and new treatments or doctors who specialize in this type of surgery. I feel like I hit walls every time I turn around and I just don’t know what to do. I know God is here. He has brought us through some tremendous battles along this way but right now I just feel like He is being silent, and I can’t see the path forward. I appreciate your words and thoughts. Please know I am praying for you as well. God bless you. – Stephanie
Oh wow, Stephanie, you have so much going on right now. Those are the most difficult times to be still for me it seems. I want to “help God out.” I’ve been where you are (and still there sometimes) searching for answers, and coming up empty-handed. I will be praying God feels present and in control for you and your husband as you face this ongoing issue. I know many can relate to your story of determined faith tinged with disappointment and pain. Thank you for sharing. Please keep me updated.
I know someone with Arnold Chiari Malformation that was helped with Upper Cervical Chiropractic. It takes pressure off the brain stem and relieves pain. Maybe that would help your husband.
Thank you for this.
Thank you Lori. I too needed to read this tonight. As both hubby and I are dealing with pain and trying to get answers in a timely fashion. I am on the list for an MRI, my date for it is the end on January 2025!
I will keep you ladies in prayer,
. 🙏🙏
Oh Ann, I am so sorry you have to wait that long. What a testimony that you continue to pray and seek God in the hard times. Thank you for the prayers, and thank you for sharing!
Thank you for sharing! I too, have learned the truth of being still 🙂 it’s wonderful to just rest in Him. To stop striving and begging. To KNOW that He is God.
Brenda, being still is something I never thought I’d value. God used heart failure to show me the importance of it. Great to hear from others who have found value in being still and found God there. I have been encouraged today by your comment, and I know others will be as well. Take care!
Hi Lori, thank you for this beautiful reflection. Being still is so hard, especially the way we were raised, and especially with the dad we had! He certainly was not one to be still. But it is so important in the spiritual life. Thank you for your witness and for your time and effort in sharing your inspirations with so many of us.
So true, Brad. Though Dad taught and lived out many valuable lessons for us, stillness was not one of them! I’m learning to appreciate the importance as I incorporate more of it into each day (perhaps out of necessity). Thank you for the example you’ve always set for taking time and being still.
I have read your book and in the process have started “being still” because it makes the most sense. I am also buying a couple more copies for friends who need the help, one is a dear friend of many years who is now dealing with ALS. So I spend some of my time helping her and doing what needs to be done for her and her husband and when they are gone, I am with their cat and pursuing being still because I can watch the ocean from her house. I know that God is real because He has been so faithful to me and taken care of much that needs taking care of. Especally me. Thank you for writing Divine Detour. It is a wonderful book.
What a godsend you must be to your friends, Amelia. It seems most of us learn the art of “being still” through difficult circumstances. I am grateful for hard times that ground me and remind me that I cannot fix everything, but He can. As Charles Spurgeon put it, “I have learned to kiss the wave that throws me against the Rock of Ages.” Take care and thank you for sharing my book. Personal sharing is the best (and only) advertising it’s ever had. Praying for you and your friends through this tough time.
Thank you Lori! What I struggle most with is wanting to know how long I will have to wait…the picture of your busy 4 year old self trying so hard to lay still really resonated with me! I want to know how long I will have to be still…I can do it if I just know how long it will take to get the desired result! Unfortunately, it seems to be precisely the point that if I’m trying so hard to be still then I’m no better than the tantrum throwing youngster being gently restrained by a loving parent. More often then not I’m only still because I wore myself out and then I’m right back to striving as soon as I take a breather. I’ve currently been waiting since March to get a start date for the proton radiation I need as the next step on my divine detour with spine cancer…first they told us April 15th, then mid June….now I have to have new scans in August for a potential start date of first week in September! Lord, help me learn to be still, knowing that nothing is a surprise to you and your timing is perfect!
Sweet Hannah, so great to see your name here! I truly understand the constant battle of it all. I desire stillness but my personality continually pulls me into doing and striving. Thankful both of us have grace and an opportunity to keep growing toward stillness. So sorry to hear about your latest season of waiting. Praying for you as you desire to lean in and “lay still.” I believe a heart to welcome Him in is what He wants most.
Lori Ann, thank you for this reminder. And this perspective of resting in battle. Love it.
Peace, my friend.
Thank you, Robin. Your words of encouragement mean so much to me. Grateful our paths have crossed.