A Stillness of Heart
“I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.”
Karen used to create quietude. As a small child she was too loud, too quiet, too little, too much, too kind or too mean. So, she found that if she stood very still and silent she could become invisible. Once invisible new things became real. She would breathe only whispers so as not to be heard. Karen would shuffle her socked feet across the floor and move her arms like willow branches in a morning breeze. Shhh! When everything stopped in quietude, she began to hear a very distinct sound. Soft and slow it started, but in seconds it grew to a regulated rhythm. The noise reached through the silence and Karen would stand and listen. With everything around her so quiet, she could hear the comfort of her heart.
When I heard that story, I remembered precious times I sat so still and often so broken at the feet of Jesus. During those times, I try to slip into His presence and not be seen or heard. Quiet and exhausted I collapse there at His feet. Relaxed comfort enters the scene, and I become invisible, except to the One Who loves me most.
There, so aware of Him, so lost in His quiet stillness, we begin to hear the soft pounding that grows until it is all we can hear. But, it is not our heart intruding, it is His heart clarifying, confirming, loving and affirming. Then our heart begins to beat with His. That heart of His, so tender, escorts us back to our world where evil exists. But it does not leave us unattended. His heart is the warm when the world freezes good intentions. When all around us moves into an unchangeable dream-like movie in slow motion, His heart picks up the pace and sparks renewal.
We need His heartbeat to live and when it seems to have disappeared, we find it again at His feet. In the stillness, we begin to hear it until, so strong, it leads us into the battle that is life. Quiet stillness ushers us to the sound of His heart; the sound that beats the marching drum of strength to carry on.