Be still

Be still and know that I am God [Psalm 46:10].

Today was not a still day.  Today was insane at times–the very opposite of relaxation, peace, calm.

For those of you who don’t know me personally, I got a job at Dairy Queen for the summer, and I’m on my third week of burgers and fries.  Honestly, DQ has restored my faith in fast-food.  No, it’s not the healthiest thing you could eat–neither does it claim to be–but it’s not terrible.  We don’t drop burgers on the floor and still serve them.  We chop our tomatoes and onions fresh every morning (unlike MacDonalds, but that’s another story you probably don’t want to hear…).  Your meal was made fresh–your double cheeseburger hasn’t been sitting on a warmer for an hour.  That would be icky.

Working at DQ has also opened my eyes a little.  Okay, so you don’t get a bachelors degree to go make blizzards, but this isn’t for the fainhearted.  It’s a job that’s high stress–lots to remember, lots of multi-tasking, fast-paced.  There are days like today.  When there are less people scheduled than usual.  When 3 customers come in before I have my station ready to go.  When there are 45 minutes of non-stop orders over lunch.  When the manager and your co-worker argue over the counter for 7 minutes about whether or not the bacon cheese burger is made to the customer’s no-pickle, no-mayo specifications.  7 minutes when there are 3 orders still to be filled for front counter and 5 for drive-thru.

[Whiny whiny whiny.  So Ruth got a job and she’s not used to being a grown up and dealing with life yet.  Yep, I’m not.  Bear with me.]

There are moments when I’m not still.

Today, I was running between the freezer and the fry-fryer (wait… what?), and I paused, mid-moment.  I almost froze mid-air–

Be still.

I was very not still at that moment–of course not still physically, but also not still mentally, spiritually.

Be still.

God, how can I be still?  How can there be any peace and rest in this chaos that is my life right now?

Child, be still.  Just rest.  I know this moment it is hard to slow down and feel my presence, but I’m not asking you to come to me.  Remember, I’m before time and after time.  I created time.  I’m not bound by it any more than I’m bound by gravity, inertia, distance–they’re my creations, not my rulers.  You can’t come where I am, to this timelessness–at least not yet.  Someday.  But for today, you’re in this moment.  You’re busy, rushed, frazzled by the ticking clock, the deadline, the beeper telling you the cheese curds are done.  No, today, I’m not asking you to escape time and be still.  I, the timeless one, am entering your moment and bringing my stillness with me.

I’m inviting you, if you will, to be still.

You’re worried about time–the rest of today, tomorrow, next year.  But closer than that, you’re worried about this moment.  Don’t.

Be still, my soul.  Thy God doth undertake to guide the future [and the present] as he has the past.  Thy hope, thy confidence, let nothing shake.  All now mysterious shall be bright at last.  Be still, my soul.  The winds and waves still know the voice who ruled them while he dwelt below. [“Be still my soul,” stanza 2, by Kathrina von Schlegel, translated by Jane L. Borthwick, inspired by I AM]

The beauty of Jesus’ presence: he is with me every minute, even though he doesn’t even operate in minutes.  He calls me to, every moment, live in his momentlessness–to sense that he is God.

Be still.
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