on being still and the mountains
I don't know about all of you, but finding stillness is one of my greatest needs and greatest challenges. I'll say this at the risk of sounding like a curmudgeonly baby boomer, but I blame some of that lack of stillness on our abundance of technology and distraction.
The irony is that I'm writing these words on a computer, you're reading them on a screen. Blogs and calendars and screens and social media are all great (and often necessary) things in my life and my business. The problem begins when I give those bright conveniences no boundaries.
So quickly the busy-ness of phone notifications and emails and even the sounds of dings and rings can consume my mind. Like I said, they're not bad things. I'm thankful for them. It's my lack of discipline in separating myself from that frantic pace that can be an issue.
All that to say, a time out from the bustle and noise of everyday life can be good. Maybe even a little necessary.
The psalmist wrote, "Be still, and know that I am God." Yeah yeah yeah you've probably seen that verse on a million coffee mugs and captioning meadow landscapes etc. I get it, it's overused.
But there's so much truth embedded in those few words. I can't really live from that place of knowing God unless I'm able to still my mind and heart.
Sometimes all I need for that reset is a good conversation, a few minutes spent reading, or a walk. And sometimes I have a yearning for a place far from home to get me into the stillness.
Sometimes that place isn't really all that many miles away, and you have a husband and a friend up for the adventure of it. Stanley Lake has always been one of those places for me.
My parents had a poster of me as a toddler there- naked and playing in the lake. It hung in our living room until I was in school and I made my mom take it down before a birthday party. That probably tells you a lot more about my family than you need to know... but you get the point. Stanley has been my escape from day one. So when I felt that familiar frantic mindset begin to set in, and had an open weekend, I knew what do with it.
Stillness we sought and stillness we found. We found it walking the perimeter of the lake, skipping rocks, making meals on the stove, brewing coffee, reading. We found it in the almost constant elk calls, and campfire shivers and conversations. In the fog swirling over the water in the morning and the audible rush of birds.
No dings or phone calls or election news. Just connection with each other and nature and the maker of it all. And also with the little nugget in this belly o mine when I felt the flutter of teeny feet at night.
It doesn't have to take a weekend without service to experience stillness. But that doesn't hurt, I suppose. I just know I need it, and I bet you do in some capacity, too. So take that walk, turn off your phone, or run to the mountains.
I mean, I hope you all have a super fun weekend, truly. But maybe also take time to get to that place of stillness where God can speak and you can rest. And I hope that wherever you go that it's scenic. That seems to help( : Happy weekending!