Imagine you are standing still. Your feet are hip width apart. Your abdomen is engaged. Your hands are by your sides with fingers spread and reaching to their respective sides of the body. In anatomy, this is called the standard anatomical position. In yoga, this position is called Tadasana or Mountain pose. From the outside, it looks like there is no movement, but in reality, your muscles are engaged and working against gravity. There is a similar dynamic in quiet contemplation and stillness.

     Psalm 46:10 exhorts us to “Be still and know that I am God.” For years I took this to mean take quiet time and reflect on God’s Word and presence. This is valuable, but the verse can hold a fuller meaning. In Hebrew, the phrase “be still” may be associated with the verb ‘rapha’, defined as to let go or to release. It is this surrender to God’s purpose and plan that is truly encouraged here.

     For me, my reactions on the yoga mat mirror my reactions in my life. Do I try to muscle my way into a pose that I am not ready for, or do I patiently develop the skills and strength required? Do I try to force a closed door open, or do I take time for stillness and spiritual discernment? Perhaps the fuller meaning of “be still” holds the answer. Taking time for quiet allows space for processing thoughts; It leaves room for the Holy Spirit.

     An old X-file episode closes with the character Dana Scully touching the cross around her neck and whispering, “What if God is always speaking, but no one is listening?.” In 1 Kings: 19 Elijah intuits that God is not found in the wind, fire, or earthquake. He is found in the whisper or still small voice. Quiet can be whatever creates spaciousness and stills the inner chatter. The possibilities are infinite: coffee and scripture, a walk in nature, playing with pets, journaling, creating art, meditation, breathwork, yoga. When I carve out space for quiet, I can tune into His direction, release my preconceived ideas and surrender to His plan. It's a work in progress, but a worthy one.