You can Be Still without stopping

“Be still, and know that I am God.”— Psalm 46:10

Be still.

How in the world does that and being a teacher possibly go together? (Are you laughing out loud or rolling your eyes at me right now??) I know it seems virtually impossible. There isn't anything “still” about a classroom filled with students—no matter their age. There are questions. So. Many. Questions.

There are conversations happening all at once. Someone needs help. Someone needs a pencil. Someone is tapping your shoulder. Someone is crying. Someone forgot their homework. Someone is arguing. Someone is calling your name for what feels like the 47th time that morning.

And then there are the emails. The countless directives from administration. The schedule changes. The unexpected interruptions. The things you didn't plan for that somehow become the most important thing happening that day.

And this doesn't even touch what you may personally be carrying on your heart—the things happening in your family, your relationships, your finances, your health, your worries, your grief, your questions…all the things that walked through the school doors with you even though you tried to leave them in the car.

And God says: Be still.

Really, God?

In this?

But maybe we've misunderstood what He means. Because God isn't telling us to be lazy. He isn't calling us to be complacent. He isn't asking us to stop caring about our students or stop doing our work. He's inviting us to stop striving.  Stop Striving… Let that soak for a moment. 

And there is a difference. Because I know what striving looked like for me. Maybe you do too. It sounded like: I have to do this.  I have to fix this. I have to keep going. I have to answer everyone. I have to hold it all together. I have to figure this out. I can't stop. If I stop, everything will fall apart.

Oh man. That was 110% me. Is it you too?

Maybe “be still” is God's loving interruption to that internal narrative. Stop. Release your grip. You don't have to carry what was never yours to carry. You don't have to solve every problem. You don't have to respond to every need immediately. You don't have to hold everything together. You don't have to be everything for everyone.

And perhaps most importantly… You don't have to be God while you're at school. You aren't God. And you don't have to be.

Oh my! What a relief.

Because the second half of Psalm 46:10 says: “and know that I am God.” Be still. And know.

Know what?

Know Who holds you. Know Who goes before you. Know Who sees you. Know Who is faithful. Know Who is present in the classroom. Know Who cares about the child who is struggling. Know Who cares about the teacher who is struggling. Know Who can handle what you cannot. Know that the classroom does not depend entirely upon you.

God is still God when the classroom is loud. He is still God when the inbox is full. He is still God when the schedule falls apart. He is still God when the lesson doesn't go as planned. He is still God when you don't know what to do next. He is still God when you are exhausted. And He is still God when you are carrying something no one else knows about.

Maybe being still at school doesn't mean the room becomes quiet. Maybe it means your soul doesn't have to join the chaos. Maybe stillness is the breath you take before responding instead of reacting. Maybe it's the whispered prayer while twenty-five children are working around you:

Jesus, help me.

Maybe it's releasing the student you cannot fix into the hands of the One who can. Maybe it's closing your computer at the end of the day instead of carrying every unfinished task home in your mind. Maybe it's recognizing: This is mine to do. This is not mine to carry. Maybe stillness is choosing to work from a place of trust instead of striving.

And teachers, I want you to hear this: You can be still without stopping. You can be still while teaching. Still while listening. Still while answering the email. Still while navigating the interruption. Still while making the next decision. Still while doing the very important work God has placed in front of you.

Because biblical stillness isn't necessarily about the absence of activity. It is about the absence of striving. It is about releasing your grip and remembering whose hands are actually holding you.

So today, tomorrow, and every day after… When the classroom gets loud… When the demands start coming from every direction… When your mind starts repeating, I have to fix this. I have to keep going. I have to hold it all together. 

Stop.

Take a breath.

Release your grip.

And remember. Whose are you? Who goes before you? Who sees you? Who is faithful? Who has got you? You don't have to carry the whole garden. The Gardener is still tending it.

So, teacher… Be still.

Not because the classroom is quiet. Not because the demands have disappeared. Not because everything is under control. But because He is God. And He is holding what you cannot.

Be still. And know. He is God. And you don't have to be.

Lifting you up in my prayers,

Maria ❤️❤️❤️