I’m waiting for an ablation, a medical procedure that could possibly end my a-fib and make me feel like me again. I’m waiting for the good days out of the “good days and bad days” that I have heard older folks talk about for years. I’ve always hated that, by the way, because I have a lot to do so I want good days to get stuff done.
I am frustrated that I can’t move as fast and do as much as I want. And to be perfectly honest, I don’t want to adjust to a new normal of being still. Then I ran across this. I wrote it for my first book after a moment of inspiration that I feel the Lord directly led me to. It made sense then, but it makes a whole lot more sense to me now that I have no choice but to be still.
“In the Hebrew, several words are used for “still.” When David says, “He leads me beside the still waters,” in Psalm 23, the word for still means comfortable or quiet. There is also a word for still as in “Are we still listening to Madonna?” (How old is that woman anyway?) Neither of those words is used here. The word for still in Psalm 46:10 is the word “raphah” which means to cease, to be idle, to let go, to draw toward evening--like you’re sitting on your front porch swing, with no agenda but to sip sweet tea and wait for the lightning bugs to show up. The root word for raphah is the word “rapha.” It means to mend by stitching, to make or cause to heal or repair. This scripture informs us that we have to hush up, calm down, and be quiet so God can thoroughly make us whole.” Healing the Hurts That Are Holding You Back.
For some of you, resting comes easily. You are peaceful souls that make all of us feel calmer just by being around you. My motto has always been to “flow and go.” I tackle one project on the way to the next task. It’s a good day if I could cross everything off my To-Do list. If I manage to do something not on the list, I add it to the list so that I can cross it off! Nuts huh?
But now my motto has moved from “flow and go” to “rest and test.” Before I jump in with my knee-jerk accomplish-response, I have to test—ask God what I am supposed to do because my energy is so limited. In the meantime, I rest, and avidly look for all God wants to teach me in this season. Things like, when I can’t do something, He will raise up someone else to do it and they will grow; that there are times when I need to ask for help and not feel like I have to do it all myself; and other times, things just won’t get done and the world will continue to spin on its axis. For me, all hard lessons.
There are no lightninbugs in California, but I can still chill out on the front porch and let the Lord do the rest.