The Gift of Stillness

I'm in Florida for a couple of days this week to see my youngest son play football under the Friday night lights for his school's varsity team.  

He's one of only two freshmen who see regular playing time, and I haven't had the opportunity to see him play this season until now.  It's been great to hang out with him for a bit, even though he has a busy schedule. 

It's good to see him doing well.  He's happy and well-liked at his school. As much as I miss him, I know that he is where he needs to be. 

I've been reflecting on some regrets about not spending more time with him when he lived with me full-time.  It's natural to feel this way, but that fact doesn't make the regret go away.  

Work/Life balance is not my strongest suit, never has been.  But I'm learning now, as I grow older, that I need to pay more attention to having the kind of balance that I need to sustain my spirit.  

We all need space for stillness and reflection.  We all need to take more time with family and friends, doing things that bring us joy and fulfillment.  We all need to push back against the tyranny of the urgent, and learn how to embrace serenity.  

T.S. Eliot once wrote:

“The endless cycle of idea and action,
Endless invention, endless experiment,
Brings knowledge of motion, but not of stillness;
Knowledge of speech, but not of silence;
Knowledge of words, and ignorance of the Word.
All our knowledge brings us nearer to our ignorance,
All our ignorance brings us nearer to death,
But nearness to death no nearer to God.
Where is the Life we have lost in living?
Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge?
Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?
The cycles of Heaven in twenty centuries
Bring us farther from God and nearer to the Dust.”

Eliot’s words ring just as true today as when they were written. We live in a world of constant motion—news feeds refreshing by the second, notifications buzzing, marketing messages chasing our attention, and schedules packed beyond capacity. 

Our culture trains us to equate busyness with value, productivity with purpose. Yet Scripture reminds us again and again that God is not found in the noise, but in the stillness.

Psalm 46:10 whispers: “Be still, and know that I am God.” Elijah discovered that God was not in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire—but in the gentle whisper (1 Kings 19:11–12). Jesus Himself often withdrew to solitary places to pray (Luke 5:16), pushing back against the demands of the crowd to reconnect with the Father.

Eliot warns that in our endless cycle of activity, we risk losing “the Life we have lost in living.” In other words, we can fill our days and starve our souls. The wisdom of silence is not absence—it is presence. 

It is learning to create space where we can experience God’s nearness, to listen for the Word behind all words, and to rest in the awareness that God is already here.

Today, may you resist the pull of the endless scroll and the relentless pace. Create space for stillness, silence, and prayer. In those quiet spaces, you will find not emptiness, but fullness—the abiding presence of God.

Prayer

Holy One, teach me to be still in a world that never stops moving. Quiet the noise within and around me so I can hear Your voice. Help me discover Your presence in silence and carry it into my daily living. Amen.

Reflection Questions

1. What practices or habits keep me trapped in constant busyness and distraction?

2. Where in my daily routine can I intentionally carve out space for silence and prayer?

3. How might I experience God’s presence more deeply if I allowed myself moments of true stillness?