I knew I had it in a journal somewhere. And last week, turning back pages of 2003, I came upon it. Quote from A. W. Tozer’s Renewed Day by Day, published in 1950. (How would he describe our day?)
“Be still, and know that I am God…” Ps 46:16Our fathers had much to say about stillness, and by stillness they meant the absence of motion or the absence of noise, or both. They felt that they must be still for at least for a part of the day, or that day would be wasted! God can be known in the tumult if His Providence has for the time placed us there, but He is best known in the silence. So they held, and so the sacred Scriptures declare. Inward assurance comes out of the stillness. We must be still to know! There has hardly been another time in… history… when stillness was needed more than… today, and there has surely not been another time when there was so little of it or when it was so hard to find.
My journal note after the quote said, “If Tozer could see (or hear!) things now!”
Yet, oh soft peace in the falling snow!
Thanking God profusely for blessed opportunity,
and seizing this little stillness in this part of today.
11 thoughts on “On Poverty… of Stillness”
beautiful stillness in the snow
looks much like home here
…And you’re in Manitoba?! Wow.
I saw a snow covered picnic table in one of your blog photos. I almost included a picture of ours.
So glad you stopped by.
Beautiful post! This Florida girl loves those pictures. 🙂
My Florida brother would love the pictures, too, but he wouldn’t want to move back up here. He played with the idea once, then came for a winter visit…. (brrrr) 😉
Thanks for visiting and commenting!
A good reminder to a person that tends to move at warp speed… God’s word is the place to rest…
Guess I’ll be going there today… Thanks.
Stillness has been calling me lately. Inviting me to sit silently in His presence. Love the Tozer quote!
Oh, yes, so little stillness – and how important it is to find it! Thank you for sharing, friend!
One of my frustrations is that we rarely have any stillness. Ever. And, even if it’s not flying into my ears and hitting my head, my head is so filled it’s almost always buzzing. One reason I like to take LONG drives in the spring and summer is b/c I can listen to worship and Word and sometimes just drive for hours w/o any real noise. I can just focus on HIM, looking at scenery that He created and appreciating His gifts. That helps. The rest of my daily life activities here at home, even in my house with no one here, doesn’t give much silence. Cars, firetrucks and other emergency sirens, planes … not much chance to get away from that. HOWEVER, HE is the “Silent Lord” of my heart. He can keep me moving the right direction.
Love your photos. When I hit MN again this spring I’ll be seeing some near Susie’s and have some pictures taken then. Always do. Always grin.
Love the pictures…miss snow for the exact reason your wrote about. The softness of snow falling makes me want to sit quietly. I miss dearly the quietness here in the states. When we lived in Bolivia we turned our generator off at 9pm…complete stillness, only light was from the stars and moon. Same thing in Papua New Guinea where we lived on the ocean. Waves softly washing into shore made for a quiet time, especially when there is no lights. Harder to find quiet in the states and here we must work at it…24 hour power is not alway the best for us spiritiually, mentally and physically. Good relaxing post to dwell upon.
Sounds so inviting, Joanne. I really used to enjoy that kind of driving, out on the open highway or country roads away from the heavy traffic areas like where I used to have to commute (a whole different story!) But my recent vision problems have curtailed or lessened my opportunities to do that, except on back roads, shorter distances, which I still do enjoy.
And it can be surprisingly noisy out here in the country, even starting pretty early. So I like to get up before the rooster, when quiet still reigns. Ah, peace.
Good relaxing comment to dwell on, too, Betty. (Sigh.) What you say is interesting, and it reminds me how I often fantasize how it would be around here if we were living like a hundred years or so ago. There was even a mill on part of the original property, but it was operated by the water of a mill race. And yes, after dark, without electricity… Makes me seriously consider turning out the brights after nine o’clock and just sitting with a couple candles lit. In fact, husband and I are just now reading a book in which the mother does exactly that at bedtime, when she tucks in her daughters and tells them a story, for the very reasons you mention. Thanks!
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