Sometimes Jehovah speaks so softly you have to be still to hear it. This week reminded me of that in a way I wasn’t expecting. It happened on a Saturday morning — one of those cold, grey Yorkshire mornings where the hills disappear into the cloud and you can see your breath.
Neil was at another door and I was standing at the end of a garden path, waiting. And in that moment of waiting — just standing still, not doing anything — I noticed something. The birds were singing. The air smelled like wet earth and woodsmoke. And I felt, very quietly, very clearly, that Jehovah was right there.
The art of being still
We talk a lot about doing things for Jehovah. Going on the ministry. Studying. Preparing talks. And all of that matters. But sometimes I think the most important thing we can do is just… stop. Be still. Listen.
“Return to your rest, O my soul, for Jehovah has dealt generously with you.”
Psalm 116:7
I’ve read that scripture a hundred times. But standing in that garden, on that grey morning, I felt it differently. Not as a command. More like an invitation. Be still. I’m here. You don’t have to do anything right now. Just rest in what I’ve already done.
Why this matters to me
I’m not naturally a still person. I like to be busy, to have a plan, to know what’s coming next. But Jehovah doesn’t always work on my schedule. Sometimes He speaks in the gaps. In the waiting. In the moments I didn’t plan for.
This is one of those stones I want to set up along the way. Not because it was dramatic or life-changing. But because it was quiet and true. And I don’t want to forget it.
Jehovah, thank you for speaking softly — and for teaching me to be still long enough to hear it.