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A Matter of Perspective

I wear a bracelet that says “Be still & know.” I got it just before my mom passed away. I remember that day driving to the hospital and seeing that bracelet and beginning to make up my own song about being still and knowing that even if she didn’t make it, she would be in heaven with her Lord Jesus Christ.

While the thought of her death was not a happy one, the thought of her eternal home was.

Don’t worry, this is not a sermon!

I was just looking down at my wrist again and seeing that bracelet and thinking about how often we jump headfirst into things. Or get angry. Or any number of things that we do without first “being still...”

Being still doesn’t necessarily mean that we are motionless, although I certainly think that it could mean that in some instances.

I take being still as this: stopping and pondering something quietly.

The key for me when I am about to erupt in anger about something is just that...stopping and pondering in a quiet way. If I do that, nine times out of ten, the anger will retreat and I can logically and sensibly have a conversation with someone instead of a screaming match.

No one wins in a war like that!

When we stop—be still—then we are giving our brains time to think the matter through. Maybe we misunderstood. Maybe there is another way to look at the problem. Maybe we just need to “calm down, Karen!!” (If you read my musing about “Karen” a few months ago this will make more sense. In the online version, I will provide a link to the “Karen” article.)

If I was a betting person, I would wager that most people do not know that I have anger issues. I usually keep them wrapped up pretty tight. I think my neighbors probably do, and to them, I apologize.

This is kind of a public apology to anyone who has been on the receiving end of my anger—to anyone who has had to witness my temper tantrums in public.

I am not proud of it but I am humbled by the fact that by being still I can reduce the number of times I will explode.

Don’t dismiss the simple or little things in life. Sometimes seven little letters can be still...

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