It’s more about what we do in the waiting.
I quickly find that in the midst of my daily life, there is an insurmountable peace that exceeds understanding running upon a parallel path.
There’s a lot I know; but even more, I do not. And I believe that is okay.
As humans I think we spend a lot of time thinking that if we just knew, things would be easier.
If we knew the answer for #37 on our Philosophy test.
If we knew the diagnosis was terminal right off the bat. If we knew the grocery store was out of salt and vinegar chips. That the pew in Dimnent Chapel was packed full of people. If two people were destined to be together. Or if the jar sitting lopsided on the kitchen shelf would crash to the floor when we opened the door.
My brothers and sisters, this is not the answer. Knowing is not the answer.
Control feels right to us at first. I can do this, we tell ourselves, unaware that the circumstance is fully out of our control.
And then we feel anxious. Worry creeps in like water through the cracks. It soon feels as though we are drowning in a wave that laps above our heads, throwing us deeper into the sea of uncontrollable control.
As we fall faster into into the realization of knowing that we do not know, we scramble to collect the pieces. But because we don’t know, we end up trying to fit together a 2,000 piece puzzle in a space the size of a place mat
It’s irrational. It’s disappointing. It’s overwhelming.
But it’s not over.
In our culture we often consider surrender to be a sign of weakness. It is a sign of weakness.
We surrender when we don’t know what to do. We surrender when we don’t know where to go, who to trust or how to move forward.
But in our faith, our acceptance of surrender means, simplistically, reflects the character of our God.
As a parent helps a child reach the cookies on top shelf, as a parent helps his or her daughter through the first breakup, as a parent cheers for their son on the field; our God takes on the same capacity.
He helps us when we can’t reach on our own, when we are in need of wisdom and when we need support.
Sometimes our need for control comes from not knowing we don’t need be in charge.
And that’s why the verse, “Be Still and know that I am God,” doesn’t say:
“Be still and know the entire collection of Aristotle’s works by memory”
“Be still and know the reasons why your family is falling apart”
or
“Be still and know everything.”
No.
It’s God saying to us, “Be still and know me. Know who I am. Know that I will fight for you.”
We can’t leave God on the bench during the game and expect Him to be the star player.
We have to let Him in. We have to surrender.
Be still, and know Him.