“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10
I generally write these meditations from my morning quiet devotional time, but there are times when my mind is more empty than still. I sit down to think and to write… and nothing rises. No grand insight. No holy nudge. Not even a whisper of direction.
Those are difficult moments for someone writing a daily meditation! But what if the pause itself is the thing to ponder?
I think there are times for all of us when we come before God and discover… nothing. No clear thought. No stirring insight. No holy direction. Just a quiet space we weren’t expecting.
Sometimes, that quiet feels like failure. But what if the pause itself is God’s invitation? What if the silence is not something to escape but something to enter?
Perhaps the Spirit is gently turning our attention to the stillness that reminds us that knowing God doesn’t depend on our productivity but on God’s providence and care. We obsess over our “to-do” lists and measure our progress by checking things off, including our devotional time. God, in the meantime, is more concerned with checking on our spiritual well-being and our relationship with him.
In God’s view, stillness is not wasted time; stillness is sacred time.
In the pause, God whispers a truth deeper than any insight: You are held, even when you have no words. You are guided, even when you have no clarity. You are loved, even when you have no thoughts to offer. The pause becomes a sanctuary.
When we don’t know what to ponder, God may be teaching us that blank spaces are part of the story. We think pondering requires content, but it really requires openness. We assume silence is an absence, but for God, silence is often his gentlest form of nearness.
The pause becomes a place where striving falls away. Not because we finally figured something out, but because God holds us even in our unknowing. “Be still and know that I am God.”
Today, as you read these words, take a couple of intentional minutes of quiet. Let the pause be your prayer. In the quiet, trust that God is present in ways you can’t measure. Let stillness be the ground where you remember that God is God—and you don’t have to be.
Prayer: Lord, teach me to trust the spaces where nothing seems to happen. Make me attentive even in the quiet. Let my stillness become a place where your presence speaks without words. Amen.
