I think Habakkuk was onto something—a man ahead of his time.
As I am writing, it’s the National Day of Unplugging (March 6). Did you even know about it? I bet many of you didn’t make it 15 minutes…let alone the 24 hour global respite from technology that was suggested. I confess I didn’t. The goal of the promoters was to “highlight the value of disconnecting from digital devices to connect with ourselves, our loved ones, and our communities in real time.” You could even request tool kits with conversation starters and activity guides to help you learn how to survive the trauma and separation anxiety. The idea would be laughable if it weren’t so sadly true of many folks in our culture today. We are addicted to a steady stream of noise, information, entertainment, and distraction. We just don’t value quietness and all the benefits that come with it.
Hundreds of years earlier, Habakkuk suggested something to his people, the nation of Judah, that may have been as radical for that day as this unplugging event is for this day.
Reeling from God’s pronouncement of impending judgment because of their sin and rebellion against Him, Habakkuk cried out to the people, “But the LORD is in his holy temple; let all the earth keep silence before him.” What kind of message was this? Shouldn’t he have been urging the people to repent yet again? Shouldn’t he suggest they recruit an army of allies or at least sign a petition against God’s verdict, compiling a list of excuses and meaningless promises? He didn’t even advise them to close the borders or head to the hills. He simply commanded them to be silent...before the Lord.
And it was not prompted because his fellow countrymen needed to reconnect and rebuild relationships or to get their own heads on straight. No, this was a very serious call to be still in the middle of a very serious, credible threat. Habakkuk’s hope was that, away from noise and distraction, the people would then be able to consider God’s awesome nature, who He is and what He does. He wanted them to connect with their true King and realize His sovereignty over all creation, including them. He hoped they would finally align their hearts with God’s—just as he had done. It was bottom line stuff. Significant stuff. The stuff of real life.
Isn’t that also a good idea for us today? Do you think we can keep quiet before Him—for more than 15 minutes—to remember and consider His awesome nature and realize His sovereignty over all creation, including us? To align our hearts with His? That’s pretty significant stuff for us too.
When we are too busy, when our ears are tuned to the static and noise and interferences of this pagan culture we live in, our minds are directed to anything BUT God. So, as a defense, we need to saturate our brains with the truths we know about our King, who He is and what He does. We need to rehearse these over and over, to preach His character and His mighty acts to our hearts until we know Him intimately and are consistently paying attention to His works around us as well as being reminded of all He has done in the past. We also do this by reading His word, by listening to messages, by attending classes, by surrounding ourselves with godly friends. But sometimes we need to sit quietly before Him.
We need the quiet to contemplate and commune and listen. I love to do that, to recount who He is, to focus on my Father with a heart filled with praise. But I have to work to make space for it in the craziness of life. Don’t you?
Sometimes I need a little help in getting or staying quiet and tuned in. I am so very thankful for both the old hymns and today’s worship music, profound words set to delightful melodies that capture my heart and carry me to quiet, reflective places where I can rest and focus on my God. So the song I find myself humming and singing over and over lately is Way Maker. What a reminder of God’s beautiful character! And I do remember as I sit still.
Several years ago, Kenny and I were trapped in a flaming inferno trying to escape the raging forest fire that wreaked havoc in Smoky Mountain National Park. Huddled in our car, locked in by other vehicles, downed wires, and fallen trees, barely able to see because of the billowing smoke, flames moving ever closer—when suddenly, the wind altered direction. The fire almost imperceptibly changed course, as did the smoke. Right next to us was a rutted pull-out along the parkway we hadn’t seen before. Kenny jerked the car into gear and quickly moved us away from the encroaching blaze behind and beside us. Our children, hundreds of miles away, were praying for that exact thing to happen. Way Maker…
Our newspaper and magazine business, once-profitable and demanding, had become an outdated and unnecessary dinosaur. Without boring you with the messy and hurtful details, we were in trouble, financially and emotionally. And we needed a car. We had turned in a leased company vehicle and we had hoped to share our older pick-up. But my mom, who I was caring for, had trouble getting in and out of the truck. We decided we needed to ask God for a vehicle. We called our three children, told them what we needed, and asked them to pray with us. Our oldest son asked, “How much can you spend?” Kenny never hesitated. He replied rather boldly, I thought, “We don’t plan on spending anything.” Really?
The very next day, that same son called to say he had a car for us. He had gone into church (he’s a pastor) and his elderly secretary asked if he knew anyone who needed a vehicle. Her son, a used car dealer, routinely switched her cars, making sure she always had a nice, dependable ride. He told her to donate the one she had. Really! And guess what it was? A pink Cadillac with heated front seats for my arthritic Mama! She rode around like a queen in a gently used limo. How gracious of our Father to take such good care of ALL of us. Miracle Worker…
Peace. That’s the very best word I can come up with. Peace on the worst day imaginable. Peace that passes all understanding, to be more specific. Peace that our dear Father promises to His children.
We had been waiting for and dreading this day for months. We were greeting a new grandchild. But this time it was going to be very different. Our beautiful Julian was arriving in a little body that was unable to sustain his precious life here on earth. He was simply passing through our broken world on his way to a glorious one where he would be forever with Jesus. We were going to have to celebrate and grieve, greet and say goodbye, pour out our love as we poured out our sorrow…all in a brief moment in time. Eighty-seven minutes to be exact. What was that like? In a word? Peace. All-encompassing peace. Unbelievable. Promise Keeper…
I am afraid of the dark; I don’t want to be there, stay there. But I have been in dark places in my life. The sudden death of my dad when I was a teenager. My mother's Alzheimer’s journey. Untreated hypothyroid induced depression. Cranial nerve palsy disabling my eye for months. Tick-born diseases that still affect my body in strange ways. Biopsies and medical scares. Church hurt. Betrayal. Business failure. Losing dear siblings. You know about these dark places too, don’t you? But I was never alone and neither were you. There was always hope, a way out. Why? He’s Light in the darkness…
As I sit in silence, I am humbled and grateful as I remember His mighty acts to me, His child, acts that flow from the very essence of who He is. In the daily circus, I rarely remember these things. But in the stillness, when I fix my mind on things above and block out other things, I readily recall His power, His love, His majesty and His mercy as He showed up time after time in my difficult life situations. I remember my God. I remember He is relentlessly pursuing me, desiring to awaken in me the truth of who He is and what He does. That is the very essence of my faith that He is growing and maturing.
That was what was happening to Habakkuk too. He went from confusion and complaint to humility and reverence. He was being transformed by realizing just who God is.
It happens in the quiet. “Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)
Give it a try!
—Eileen Hill
