“I haven’t seen you in a while”…My Struggle with Stillness
“I’m going through a moment of stillness, and I must say… It’s quite uncomfortable. Or is it just me?”
Those were the honest words I whispered to my prayer partner one quiet morning. They weren’t poetic. They weren’t polished. They were raw and honest.
Later that day, as I sat in the silence I often avoid, those exact words gently echoed back to me, not as a complaint this time, but as a divine question: “Why is being still so uncomfortable?”
Why does a moment meant for just being to pause as a mom, a woman, a dreamer, feel like foreign ground? Why does sitting in rest, reflection, and quiet feel more like resistance than restoration?
In the days before this realisation, something subtle yet significant had shifted inside me. I noticed something and someone I had not truly seen in a while: my son.
Now, let me clarify. My toddler is practically attached to my hip. I spend almost every waking moment with him. I kiss him, feed him, bathe him, laugh with him, and cuddle with him. But one day, I looked at him, I mean looked at him, and was stunned by the thought:
“I haven’t seen you in a while.”
That day, I was stopped in my tracks. I had noticed him, but I had stopped observing him. I had stopped marvelling at his little milestones, giggling at his quirky new habits, and pausing to wonder who he was becoming.
There was a time I marvelled at every little milestone: a new word, a quirky habit, a funny face, my heart would explode with awe. But lately, I had just been going through the motions. Naptime was a task. The only thing on my mind was how much I could squeeze into that precious quiet pocket before picking up his big sister. And suddenly, I realised I had also stopped noticing her. And, if I’m sincere, I had even stopped seeing myself.
How did I get here? How did something so beautiful, sacred, stillness, and slowing down become so uncomfortable? And then I heard a gentle whisper in my spirit:
“Be still, and know that I am God.”Psalm 46:10 (NIV)
It’s not just about stopping. It’s about knowing. It’s in the stillness that God reveals. It’s in the quiet that He recalibrates. It’s when we pause that we begin to see again.
That Scripture didn’t just soothe me, it summoned me. It reminded me that stillness is more than merely stopping. It is knowing who God is, who I am in Him, and what truly matters in this season. When we are still enough and long enough to tune into His heart, something holy happens: We begin to see again. We see God more clearly. We see our children with wonder again. We see ourselves not by our productivity, but through the lens of grace.
The truth is that our culture celebrates hustle. It crowns busyness as purpose and glorifies being “booked and busy” as a badge of honour. But God never asked us to build our worth on productivity. He never called us to burn out in the name of being faithful. Instead, He offers something better:
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
Matthew 11:28 (NIV)
This moment of stillness, though uncomfortable, is not a punishment. It is a divine invitation to recalibrate, rest, look around again, and remember who we are and whose we are.
So, if you, like me, have found yourself in a pause you didn’t plan, don’t panic. Lean in. Listen deeply. There is beauty here. There is a purpose in this pause. There is a revelation waiting to be received. In this sacred space, you’re not falling apart but being refined.
REFLECT
Why do you think stillness feels uncomfortable for you?
Are there areas of your life, relationships, habits, or emotions, you’ve been too busy to see truly?
What has God been trying to show you in the silence?
JOURNAL PROMPTS
Describe a recent moment of stillness. What did it reveal to you?
Write a letter to God about how stillness makes you feel. Be honest, then listen for His response.
Think of a time you truly noticed someone you love,what did you see in them that
