A journey of noticing through stillness.
That year, winter felt like the longest season of my life. Everything inside me was heavy. Everything around me felt muted. My spirit, my thoughts and even my breath felt slowed down in a way I couldn’t explain. It was as if something in me had stopped moving. I prayed, but my prayers fell flat. I reached for You, but the silence felt louder than Your presence. I tried to worship, but even the songs felt far away from my heart.
There were days I wondered if You could still hear me. Nights, I questioned if I had drifted too far. Moments where I felt like my faith was washing away, and I was at the edge.
I didn’t have words for it then, so I called it spiritual paralysis. Because that’s how it felt: my soul stilled in the worst way, not peaceful, but numb. Not quiet, but disconnected. I felt angry at the silence. Angry at the waiting. Angry at how distant You felt to me, I thought something was wrong with me, or worse, something was wrong between us.
But this is where my journey began in the valley of a soul unable to move, a heart unable to rise,and a silence deeper than anything I had ever known. And even though I didn’t understand it then, this was the first chapter of the stillness You were teaching me to walk through.
Psalm 46:10 (ESV) — “Be still, and know that I am God.”
