
There is something profoundly daunting, even ominous, about the peculiar silence before a storm or the calm that spreads over all of nature just before an earthquake. Few things in the world can touch and move our hearts as deeply as the power of solitude.
One of the greatest blessings that Christ gives us is peace in our hearts. There, when the soul relinquishes its own works, is “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:7). There we find a rest and stillness that is the source of all strength. It is a peace that nothing can disturb, a deep calm that the world can neither give nor take away. Within the soul, there is a chamber of peace where God dwells. When we enter it and silence every other voice, we can hear God’s still and gentle voice.
The center of a wheel, no matter how fast it is spinning, remains immobile and static. Similarly, even in the busiest life, there can be a place where we dwell alone with God in enduring solitude.
Years ago, a friend gave me a small book that marked a turning point in my life. Its title was “True Peace.” It contained this one thought: God is waiting in the depth of our being to commune with us, if we only become still enough to hear His voice.
I thought this would be a very easy thing to do. So, I began to practice stillness. But as soon as I tried, a whole jumble of voices rushed into my ears. A thousand clamorous voices from within and without made themselves heard until I could hear nothing but their noise and unrest. Some of these were my own voices, some my own questions, some my own worries; others were my own prayers, still others the whispers of the tempter and the voice of the restless world. Never before, it seemed, did so much need to be dealt with, said, and thought as now. From all sides, I was attacked, pushed, pulled, and greeted with noisy voices and unspeakable restlessness. It seemed necessary to listen to some of them and respond to some. But God said, “Be still, and know that I am God!” (Psalm 46:10)
Then came the battle of thoughts about tomorrow and its duties and worries; but God said, “Be still!” And as I heeded that and slowly learned to obey and close my ears to each of these voices, I found after a while that there was a still, gentle voice in the depth of my heart, speaking to me with unspeakable tenderness, strength, and comfort. As I listened, it became the voice of prayer, the voice of wisdom, the voice of duty, and then it was not difficult for me to pray and trust. This still, gentle voice of the Holy Spirit in my heart was God’s answer to all my questions. It was God’s strength for my soul and body. It became the content of all my knowledge, all my prayers, and all my blessings, for it was the living God Himself.
Being still before God is our greatest need. In this way, we recognize God and gain spiritual refreshment and nourishment for our soul. Our heart is nourished with the Living Bread. Our body is refreshed, and our spirit drinks the water of life. We are like the flower that absorbs the cool and crystalline dew drops at night. Just as the dew never falls on a stormy night, so the dew drops of His grace do not fall on a restless soul.
We need the quiet hours of prayer in our lives, the hidden places of the Most High, the times of waiting on the Lord. There, we can renew our strength and learn to rise up with wings like eagles, then return to run and not be weary, to walk and not faint (Isaiah 40:31).
The best part of this stillness is that it gives God an opportunity to work on us. “For he who has entered His rest has himself also ceased from his works as God did from His” (Hebrews 4:10). When we cease doing our own works, God works in us, and when we cease our own thoughts, God’s thoughts come into us. When we become still from our restless activity, God works in us to want and act according to His good purpose.
Therefore, let us embrace God’s stillness! Let us dwell under the shadow of the Almighty and in the hidden place of the Most High (Psalm 91:1). Let us silence the other voices! Then we can hear the still, gentle voice of God.
There is also another kind of solitude. The silence that allows God to work for us while we remain still—the stillness that ceases from its own plans, its own wisdom, self-defense, and self-justification, and lets God care and rule. How often do we lose God’s intervention by taking up our own cause and defending ourselves!
There is no scene in the entire Bible as glorious as the silent Savior when He gave no answer to the men accusing Him. He could have struck them down with a glance of His divine power or with a word. But He let them say and do their worst, standing there in the power of silence— as God’s holy, silent Lamb!
May God give us this silent power, this mighty self-surrender, this Spirit that makes us conquerors through Him who loved us! Let our voice and our life speak like the gentle whisper. May our life be a testimony to this wonderful power of God so that we leave a legacy to the glory of God.
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