I’ve spent so much of my life caught up in the storm — the rushing, the hurrying, the worrying, the believing that if I just do more, anticipate more, or control more, then somehow I’ll feel settled. I’ve been tossed around by circumstances, soaked by the rain of expectations, and exhausted from trying to shape outcomes that were never mine to command.
When I’m in that place, I don’t just face the storm — I become part of it.
I join the noise.
I add to the chaos.
I mistake activity for purpose, and movement for meaning.
I catch myself hurrying from place to place with no real reason for the urgency, driven by the feeling that where I am isn’t enough and who I am isn’t enough. It’s as if the world trains us to believe we must always be somewhere else — some future moment, some next responsibility — instead of inhabiting the one God has placed us in.
But here’s the truth I keep rediscovering:
The storm isn’t outside of me.
The storm begins when I abandon the stillness inside.
Scripture reminds us: “Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10
Stillness is not weakness. It is surrender. It is remembering that beneath all this busyness and tension — beneath the rushing and the drama — there is a place the world cannot touch.
Jesus Himself spoke to this inner storm when He said, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you… Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” — John 14:27
That peace already exists in the soul God breathed into us.
It is not a peace we earn — it’s a peace we return to.
And it shows up most when we stop striving and trust the One who calms winds and waves with a word.
“Then He arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace, be still!’” — Mark 4:39
The silence isn’t a lack of sound.
It’s the absence of striving.
It’s the moment we stop fighting for control and remember:
We are already held.
We are already loved.
We are already safe in God.
When I remember that, the rushing loses its power.
The drama loses its pull.
The storm might keep raging, but I am no longer swept away.
Because the silence within me — the stillness God placed in my soul — is stronger than anything around me.
