Calm Before Storm

I am told that standing at the South Pole is like being in the eye of a hurricane––deceivingly calm. The quietness seems inconsistent with the fact that most of the earth’s wind originate from there. How? As warm air from the equator flows in over the southern polar region, it descends, becomes cold and dense, and sinks to the freezing surface. Since the ice-covered plateau tapers off toward the oceans, and no mountains or other obstacles stand in the way, gravity pulls the heavy, cold air down those slopes. The wind picks up tremendous speed as it moves northward toward the equator. Gradually it is heated by the sun and begins to rise, creating a circular pattern that drive the earth’s weather machine.

For Christians, quiet times of prayer and worship also give rise to great power. They might seem nonproductive because nothing appears to be happening.

Our urge is almost compulsive: move, do, work, worry, struggle. Yet at the heart of accomplishing things for God must be that regular experience of quietness and calm.

The recently passed John Stott once admitted the truth that many of us have felt but failed to confess: “The thing I know will give me the deepest joy––namely, to be alone and unhurried in the presence of God, aware of His presence, my heart open to worship Him––is often the thing I least want to do.”

It’s important for us to gather corporately for church to learn and worship with exuberance. And it is important for us to actively love people by serving energetically. There’s nothing spiritual about laziness. But any spiritual flurry of activity that we might attempt to muster is like blowing our lungs out trying to create wind. The power of this planet’s weather is created in a place of quietness and calm. And the power of God’s work in the lives of people is conceived in hearts that are consistently quiet before our Him.