Awake My Soul

{excerpts from Shaun Groves', "Awake My Soul"}

Cathedral

Arches of reaching limbs

Crickets sing secret hymns

Over all of us.

Awake my soul to live this moment

Awake my soul, give thanks and hold it

Dear now

God is here now

Awake my soul.

Hush away the hurry

Put to rest the worry

Come to quell and quiet me

In this moment given

Slow and fully live it

Drink up all the passing peace.

Awake my soul to live this moment

Awake my soul,

give thanks and hold it

Dear now

Be here now

Awake my soul.

"Stand in awe,

and sin not...

and be still.

Selah."

-Psalm 4:4

There isn't much "still" about spending a weekend with boisterous boys.

There is, however, a lot of "awake."

This leads me to believe that being still-- this command long revered and chased after by Christians and non-Christians alike-- wasn't ever meant as the end.

It's become that. If I could just get still for a moment, I'd be content. Be still, everyone, and happiness will rush over you. I get to thinking that that's the promise and, honestly, feel a little let down each time I do sit still and feel at best only a little anxiety.

I mean, I'm a happy person with a lot of life all around me and in me. I wouldn't even rank anxiety, fear up there on my list of struggles. But slow all that life down and there I am with past and future bustin' all up into the present with its "what ifs" and "you should haves" and I'm supposed to just sit there? And be happy about it?

I mean, I guess I'll do it because I'm supposed to and since disappointment of others is a ranking struggle, but surely He sees the charade, right? And if He does see through the happy to the deep down anxiety then how in the world is He satisfied by my effort to sit because I'm supposed to? And if He is satisfied with me fulfilling that requirement so check-list-ily even as my stillness is bombarded from both directions by the timeline that is my flying-by life-- if He is satisfied with a charade--then is this really a God I want to get still and knowin' about?

Also, what if your weekend, your month, your life just doesn't have room for still because you're responsible for stirring children?

For a booming business?

For stewardship of resources?

For cash flow?

For teaching new minds?

It's like we spend time trying to find a loophole to get out of the supposed "still" requirement and once we've convinced ourselves we've found the perfect excuse we start wondering what's so awesome about a God who allows such loopholes.

It's a letdown when you feel like you don't have the time to be the good Christian that sits still and ponders the supposedly awesome God* you believe in. It's an even scarier letdown when you do find the time to be still and feel far from the peace and happiness that should, supposedly, result from obedience to this long revered and chased after command.

*I say "supposedly" awesome God not because I don't believe He is awesome but because supposedly means "presumed to be true, but without proof" and sometimes our own hurried lives are all we have to go on in terms of "proof." Though we presume, believe He is worthy of awe, the hurry robs us of personal evidence.

Oh but I should, so I'll hurry to be still. As if it is the end to be achieved.

Robbing myself, really, of the real end.

Which is life.

Not the kind on either side of the present saying "should have" and "what if." Not the timeline.

Life.

Psalm 46 is a chaotic chapter of the Bible. He doesn't say "be still and get happy." The psalmist gives account of all the turmoil happening and ends it not with a promise of happiness but a near chastisement-- God saying "I've got this." I and not you.

A means to understanding this is to sit back and watch as I take care of what you'll entrust back to me. Remove yourself from the action and take moments to trust. Persevere in trust long enough to find me faithful in the action.

With so much emphasis on being still and the assumed, empty promise of happiness, I begin to miss the better, way more fulfilling side of the equation. The faithfulness in all of the action.

By all means, be still. He wouldn't have commanded it if it wasn't wise council. I do believe it is a mark of strengthened character to be able to sit and wrestle thoughts-- a strength I often can't muster up for myself.

It's not about mustering. It's about awakening.

I'm missing the faithfulness in action. There's going to be little comfort in knowing He's God while I'm still if I don't know him as God while I'm living the activity.

When I watch these boys wrestle on the green and skip rocks on the water I notice they certainly aren't still, but they also aren't hurried-- they're energized.

Hurried grasps for time, operates from weaning strength.

Energized takes advantage of time, operates from momentum.

Hurried is groggy.

Energized is awake.

Hurried lives a timeline.

Energized lives a life.

As creator of my every moment, God brings to each moment a strength I could not muster on my own. In sustaining each moment, he shows himself faithful. Gratitude for that faithfulness has the power to propel me-- it gains momentum, sustains me. Keeps me awake.

I'll continue to acknowledge God in the unsure, oft-bombarded moments of stillness.

But I want even more to awaken to the ways He acknowledges me in moments lived.

That I wouldn't be sitting anxiously before a supposedly awesome God.

That I would instead be struck standing, in awe at daily proof-providing moments of faithfulness.

Give thanks and hold it dear now, God is here now. Awake my soul.