Be Still...

"Be still and know that I am God” – Psalm 46:10

If you had asked me a couple of months ago if I had quiet time with the Lord, I would have said yes, every morning. Lately my “quiet time” has been challenged. Do I really have quiet time? Do I really have moments when I am still and can hear the still small voice of God?

Since I’m writing, I’m guessing you can predict that my answer was not a resounding yes. My husband and I are working through a devotion on an app called “The Way”. I wanted to do it as a critique kind of thing, see if it was any good, and it ended up challenging me. It starts out by trying to teach you how to have quiet time with the Lord. What it looks like and things you can do to maximize that time. The daily devotions made me realize something, it’s been a while since I have actually had some quiet time. Real quiet time that is not on a clock or interrupted by children, my phone, a to-do list or my own thoughts.

I haven’t written in a while. Every time I’ve tried, the blank page stared at me and my mind either went blank or had to much in it to form a sentence. I didn’t realize it until recently, but this is a result of what I have been doing with my mind for far too long…keeping it occupied so it can’t feel. I just finished my grief coaching class, and it did exactly what I was hoping it would do. It showed me where I still need to grieve. It showed me parts of my life that I hadn’t grieved yet and didn’t even realize I needed to. It also reinforced what I had just realized, my mind doesn’t want to be still. If I stay busy and stay focused on anything else, I’m not sad and I don’t miss my son or my previous life. The pain is less. But that’s not good. So here I am…dealing with it.

Grief…it is such a weird thing. I don’t even know what to call it. It’s not a thing, it’s an event, it’s a part of life. One we will all experience, yet not in the same way. I think that’s why I call it a “thing”. It’s just easier. I knew that I lived in a “buck-it-up, Midwest, Norwegian, nothing bothers us” culture, but I did not realize the downside to that. In short, my grief makes you uncomfortable. (I mean that in general terms. Not that you, the reader, are uncomfortable with my actual grief. Although, I guess you could be.) But here’s the truth that we all need to learn. Grief is real even if it makes you uncomfortable. Especially when we are talking about grief from death loss. There is nothing like it and yet everyone connected to the loss will experience the death and the grief that comes with it differently.

This may surprise some of you, but that’s ok!! We don’t need to go through it the same way. In fact, the only thing we must all do…is GO THROUGH IT. It’s the refusal of feeling it, of experiencing it, of going through grief that is wrong. The only way to heal your soul, to calm your mind and to figure out how to go on living is to go through it. But don’t do it alone.

Find ways to release it. There are programs available like Grief Share held at local churches that give space for people to share their experiences. You don’t even have to talk, just go and listen. It will help you feel a little more normal. There are also grief coaches, which is what I hope to do someday soon. They are here to walk with you, to listen and to help you move forward when you are ready. There is also grief counseling. This is for people who are using substances or other means to cope with grief or when the grief is so complicated you need medication or other forms of medical assistance. There is nothing wrong with any of this, you just need to find the courage and strength to reach out to someone. Grief needs to be witnessed. It needs to be expressed. If it’s not, it consumes you. It will inevitably come out anyway, but the fallout will be worse. Difficulty in relationships, addictive behaviors and chronic depression are just some of what could happen if you do not express your grief. So let it out! Let your soul breathe. Let the tears fall. The only thing you can do is slow down, listen to what your body and your soul are telling you. Embrace the pain, the sorrow, and reach out and accept support from someone else. As you do, you will find pieces of yourself again. You will learn and adapt to carrying the weight of loss. You will in time become the best support for someone new to the rollercoaster of grief.

I’m still struggling with finding quiet time, but I wrote today, so something has changed. I was also able to move quickly through an uncomfortable and heart-wrenching experience this past week. (By quickly I mean it’s Thursday and it happened on Sunday and I feel free of it. It’s progress.) I was able to spend time with the Lord and bear my questions and doubts and fears and the deep seeded lies I’ve been telling myself all my life and then see and accept the answer when He sent it. The reassurances and the love that my grieving heart needed.

So, to wrap it all up, I’m still learning. Still trying. Still waiting and expecting God to show up when I need Him. Still learning that His way is better and that I must decrease and He must increase. The journey of grief is unpredictable and literally like being blindfolded on a roller coaster, but if you allow yourself the space to grieve, the opportunity to learn and trust God even just a little bit, you will find the strength for the next bump, twist or turn. And then one day you will breathe a little easier, feel a little lighter and realize you do have the strength to carry your grief, and the roller coaster won’t seem as scary.

Until next time…Stay Anchored

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

Originally written and published on Substack on May 7, 2026