Take Your Hands Off

By Summer Martin

Do you know what I am bad at?

Sitting still. Like my brain legit does not want me to do this. I must be fidgeting with something. A pen. A fidget toy. Picking at my nails. Bouncing my leg. The only time I feel like I have been completely still is while my brain was running 50 million different ways at once. A lot of the time when I sit down to read my Bible, my brain is already making a list of all the other things I need to do or finish. So while I can make my body physically still for a little bit, it’s my mind that is trying to hold me and the whole world together all the time.

But before I go into this too much, I want to give a little background of who I am. If you’ve perused this website any at all, you’ve read my About Me section. I carry a lot of different roles… wife, daughter, sister, aunt, ministry, work, writing, serving, creating, etc. There are also things that aren’t as noticeable, things like wrestling with mental health, feelings of who I am in Christ, feeling forgotten or unseen, and all of this while actively trying to fix it all, and feeling that if I don’t, then everything falls apart.

Sounds like a lot, doesn’t it?

This past year, this verse has continued to show up in my life, and after what seemed like the millionth time, I was like, ok God. I see your God winks. Let’s look into this. So, how can I, a late-diagnosed 38-year-old woman who cannot sit still, be still so that she can know God? I always imagined it in my head: me sitting in a room with soft worship music on, in a comfy chair, meditating on the Word of God, being still so that I would hear God’s still small voice and know Him.

That’s not me. I can make a picturesque scene in my head of how I wish I was sometimes, but I enjoy silence rarely. I must always have something on for background noise. I mean, I have a sleep mask that plays an audiobook at night when I go to sleep.

I’ve pondered this verse repeatedly, but lately I’ve begun thinking about it in a new way. And even though I am not good at being still, I think this verse cuts to something else I may not be very good at…….

Taking my hands off.

You know that stereotype that floats around social media about the oldest daughter who survives on witty dark humor, caffeine, has the “someone has to fix it, apparently that someone is me” mentality, and works in healthcare? Yep. That’s me.

I like to fix things. I was the friend who would try to fix the argument between the other friends. Or when my sister and I would fight, I was the first to apologize in order to fix it. If something seems uncertain, I want answers. If someone I love is hurting or struggling, I want to make it better.

But somewhere along the way, this striving to do starts masquerading as faithfulness. If I can just keep doing this or say yes to this, then everything is ok. The busyness of doing, which started off in a well-meaning place, becomes burdensome.

When we take a moment to look at Psalm 46, it doesn’t give us a picture of peaceful circumstances. “The nations rage, the kingdoms totter…” In all this, everything is moving. It feels unstable, and we may wonder, where is God?

Duh, right where God always is. He is right there, in the middle of it, not going anywhere. Not leaving or forsaking you. He says, “Be still, and know that I am God.”

He doesn’t tell us this after all the chaos is over, not even when I feel like I have everything under control.

But now. Be still.

While you are going about your life, in amongst the chaos. Take your hands off and be still.

The Hebrew behind “be still” is raphah, a word that carries the idea of letting go, slackening, or ceasing. And here, it’s given as a command. In the context of Psalm 46, God is speaking into chaos—nations raging, kingdoms tottering, wars and destruction—and commanding us to cease.

And maybe that is what has been hitting me. I spend so much time trying to control the chaos around me when God is reminding me that He is the One who is sovereign over it. Hence, me dropping the control I think I have. Being still isn’t just me sitting perfectly still and waiting on God to do something. Being still and knowing He is God is an active command of me letting go and having faith that God is there and He is who He says He is and will keep the promises He says He will keep.

But knowing is another command. God doesn’t say, “Cease once you understand what I’m doing.” He commands us to cease because of what we know about Him.

Maybe that’s what I’ve had backwards. I’ve been waiting for God to show me how everything is going to work out so that I can finally let go. But that isn’t what He’s saying.

I don’t have to fix every relationship.

I don’t have to know what happens next.

I don’t have to make sure everyone understands me.

I don’t have to say yes to everything to prove I’m faithful.

I don’t have to force open a door that God hasn’t opened.

I don’t have to make something happen simply because I’m afraid nothing will happen if I don’t.

I can still work. Serve. Write. Love people. Make plans and fulfill my responsibilities.

Stillness doesn’t mean inactivity. It’s surrender.

Maybe I will always bounce my leg. Maybe I’ll always need something playing in the background. Maybe sitting perfectly still will never be my strong suit.

But that’s not the stillness God has been trying to teach me this year. He’s teaching me to loosen my grip. To stop demanding that I know how everything works out before I trust Him. To faithfully do what He has placed in my hands and leave everything else in His.

And Psalm 46:10 doesn’t stop with “Be still, and know that I am God.” God continues, saying, “I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!”

I will. Not, You make sure everything works out. Not, You keep everything from falling apart. Not, You figure out how I’m going to accomplish My purposes.

I will be exalted.

Because the Lord of hosts is with me. The God of Jacob is my fortress. God is still sovereign. He is still faithful. God is still God. So I can loosen my grip. I can take my hands off. I can be still.

Because I don’t have to hold myself and the whole world together.

I never did.

He does.