Thrilled to be writing among the beautiful Five Minute Friday community. This is where we write for just five minutes, on a word prompt. We don’t worry about perfection or making it just right, but rather allow the words to flow freely without over thinking. If you’ve never written for the Five Minute Friday, come join us. You will be glad you did!
*I originally wrote this post thinking the word was still, so some editing had to be done. Not too much as still and slow are interchangeable here. 🙂
If I were being honest (and I always am), I would tell you that I fear slowing down. Perhaps fear is a strong word. Let’s just say that I avoid stillness, purposely. I always feel the need to keep my mind engaged and my body moving.
Yes, I’m working on it. I know it’s not healthy emotionally or physically to keep myself in a constant state of motion. But it is where I’m most comfortable.
When I allow myself to slow down, my mind begins to go to places that I’d rather not go to — reliving past hurt or pain; reasoning with myself about decisions I need to make; thinking about all of the wrong in the world and wondering how little ‘ole me can make a difference. My mind begins to fill itself up with “what if’s” and “if only’s”, and I wonder once again if I’ve done enough, said enough, or am enough.
Call it ADD. Call it being undisciplined. Call it “avoiding the issues”. Whatever it is that causes my mind (and body) to want to stay busy is something I carry with me even into the holy place. I think the biggest issue for me is I’m an avoider — I don’t want to face reality sometimes. The hard truth is often too hard to bare (even though I know it’s His burden to carry). I believe that in the stillness I may here Him say something to me that I’m not prepared to hear and then that opens up a whole can of worms about my lack of obedience, etc. and so on. So even in His presence I keep myself busy reading, praying, journaling, singing. Even in the place where I crave slow there is constant motion. It’s what keeps me sane.
Someone once told me that perhaps I’ve been so disappointed by God in the past that I cannot allow myself to fully receive. Therefore, I’ve put up walls of protection to avoid being hurt again. Who puts up walls to keep God out? I suppose I do sometimes.
I know God waits for me with open arms. He’s waiting for me to let the walls down so that I can come to Him and not fear what He might say or what He might take away. He wants me to slow down and learn to trust Him in the stillness, where nothing stands between us.