Be Still and Know

God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
  Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,
though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
  though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble at its swelling...

Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!”

Psalm 46:1-3, 10 

The Lord has given me a great challenge for most of my life, as I have said before; and that challenge is how to deal with my fearfulness.  Interestingly, after I wrote a week or so ago about fear, our pastor spoke on it last Sunday.  His prayer both for himself and for his congregation is that we will serve HIM fearlessly in 2012.  I happen to know that our pastor prays specifically for each of his members; therefore, I am confident that I have someone praying for me concerning my fear.  How thankful I am!

But more importantly, I have the God of heaven as my refuge, the One under whose wings I may hide during times of trouble.  I have His strength to carry me through when I think I may no longer stand firm, when the earth seems to be moving under my feet and the roar of the adversary  in my mind sounds like mountains crashing into the sea.

A key to remembering that God is God and no one or nothing is able to penetrate our Refuge is to BE STILL.  Oh, how difficult that is!  My body wants to act, and my mind wants to race.  I want to do something, to go somewhere, to work this problem out.  No, I must be still.  God is the One who gives strength and who shelters us in the midst of the storms of life.

I think I have published this on my blog before, but this is a poem that has meant much to me personally during the storms of life.

The Storm

It was calm as I overlooked the waters of the bay,

A day not unlike many that I had seen before.

And with my back to the scurrying crowd behind me,

I could imagine blissful stillness, nothing more.

The cry of the gulls was sweet to my ears,

A familiar sound that I often fondly heard.

In their shrill cry I almost sensed a warning,

But to maintain my reverie, I dismissed it as absurd.

As I gazed into the distance, I spied a small cloud.

A subtle wind began to rise.

Something within me nagged me to observe it,

But instead I turned my head and closed my eyes.

Life here is so easy, so carefree, I mused.

This island is blessed with pure serenity.

No storm has overtaken it in all these years;

To even contemplate it seems vile obscenity.

As I stood upon the rocks I so often carelessly climbed

I noticed a wave slap hard at the breaker.

The salt spray that hit me should have alarmed me;

I decided to think on it later.

But before my heart would dare conceive it,

The storm had unleashed all its grave fury.

I was guilty of ignoring the telltale signs.

The biting wind was my judge, the raucous thunder my jury.

 It slapped at my face and tore at my clothes.

And promised to blind me with fear.

Though the torrents fell round me and the darkness screamed evil,

My heart sensed a Presence was near.

As I fell to my knees, pelted by the winds and rain.

It seemed that the blackness would enfold me.

I cried out to the Creator of nature’s wrath

And begged Him in mercy to hold me.

For hours the fair island that had been my secure shelter

Was battered and beaten and torn.

I made my way to the top and clung firmly to the Rock

And waited out the cold, blinding storm.

The storm did subside, but others followed.

Alas, my fair island was not immune.

But in the midst of the chaos I learned a wise lesson.

My insensitive heart was fine-tuned.

For the One who causes the gales to blow

And the fierce rains to pellet the earth

Is the same Lord who calms the raging seas

And restores the land with new birth.

So amidst the harsh storms of life I have found

That He allows them as part of His plan.

But the Rock that I cling to is eternally secure,

Held firm by His strong loving hand.

I don’t look for the storms, but as I cling to the top

Of the Rock, I think I may see

A glimpse of eternity and how very much sweeter

That haven called heaven will be.

Gloria Godbee

New Year’s day, 2001

Clinging to the Rock,

Gloria