You answer us with awesome deeds of righteousness,
O God our Savior,
the hope of all the ends of the earth
and of the farthest seas,
who formed the mountains by your power,
having armed yourself with strength,
who stilled the roaring of the seas,
the roaring of their waves,
and the turmoil of the nations.
I'm not quite sure what to do with myself.
I've had a few days to be still.
To be quiet.
I am unpracticed.
I love the rigorous regimen of my big family life, caring for my multitudes of little ones. Teaching. Speaking. Scrambling. Cleaning. Hugging. Scolding. Running.
There's just not a lot of quiet, of still, in all of that.
When there is a bit of respite, Mike and I find ourselves just tired.
So well-rested and quiet is unfamiliar.
I'm grateful for it.
But somewhat uncomfortable.
To be still with my Abba. To be quiet, not taking a little pocket of time here or there. But to sit for an extended time. To force myself not to grab a phone, check an email. Not to pick up a book.
To be quiet.
To keep myself in a time out.
For all the right reasons.
I'm not good at it.
But I do want to hear.
To hear what He has to say.
Even if the theme of the conversation is quiet.
Just to sit alongside Him. And to be still. And to let Him quiet the waves and crests of a busy life.