Set 

It was a late October evening, the first game for our football team and my first game as head coach. As the rain came down and the halftime whistle blew, my mind was going 100 miles per hours, thinking of anything and everything.

Players, coaches and referees began moving toward me to ask questions, give information or share opinions about our situation. As the noise increased and surrounded my senses, the fog of the moment began to take over as I walked to the locker room for halftime, trying to figure out what we needed to do to win this game.

As life pulls us in different directions, our minds can become clouded and foggy when we don’t take time to reset ourselves into a rhythm led by Christ. That enables us to thrive in each part of our lives that God has called us to be present in.

It can seem strange to be still when it feels like action is needed; however, the Hebrew meaning to “be still” means not inaction, but to actively trust in God and “let go or release” our burdens to Him.

How often do we strive in our minds to find a solution, frantically trying to come up with the idea on our own, but as soon as we become still, God gives us the solution when we least expect it? In our stillness, God gives us the strength to overcome our situation. When we face challenging times, it can be easy to forget all the times God has come through in our own lives. Being still creates space to remember God is enough and in control.

Building a rhythm of silence creates intentional space for God to minister to our hearts, ensuring we go the distance in the call He has placed on our lives. Regularly spending time in silence, he learns of God’s plan for each next step.

Before I stepped into the locker room that halftime, I stepped to the side and found a quiet spot to take two minutes to myself, asking God for the courage to lead our team, to give me the game plan we needed, and to use my words and actions to glorify Him in that present moment. As the fog cleared my mind, I went on to deliver our team’s strategy, and, most importantly, realized my identity was not in wins or losses, but in who God called me to be in that moment.