"Be still, and know that I am God." - Psalm 46:10

He stood powerless in front of the people. Thousands had gathered. For them, life had become hopeless, and this man had told them to follow him. And follow they did, leaving everything to give him a shot. But now he stood, fearing he'd made a mistake. He might have led them straight to their demise.

The more they stood, the more death felt bound to destroy them. The enemy, strong and fierce, bore down upon them. Weapons were drawn. Warhorses clamored for blood. Their end was in sight.

The people looked to their once fearless leader. Complaints flowed from their mouths. So Moses said, "Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the LORD" (Exodus 14:13). The people thought the Red Sea was their great doom, but in truth, it was God's great weapon. Soon, all would be well. God would take care of everything.

"Be still," God said, "And know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10). The words mean to let it drop, relax, or sink. Stop treading water in a vain attempt for your next breath. Stop striving and struggling. Rest. Let it drop. See what happens. You might find out God is God. And you're not.

I have been learning the power of these words. This command pulls at my heart and wrenches my mind. Surely, I think, I cannot be still. I cannot stop. I cannot let it drop. I've got to hold it all together. I know my perspective is erroneous, but I often act like it's gospel truth. But God has been teaching me to let it drop, to be still, to trust Him more deeply than ever before.

As life complexifies, trust must broaden.

Recently, I sat with a pastor I admire. A real world-traveler, a minister to the nations, I asked him how he did it. "How do you travel and teach and preach so broadly, so extensively?" I asked. He didn't have an answer, but sitting with him for a couple of days gave me one. He trusts God. He leans into the Spirit and keeps steppin'.

I want to get to the next level of trust in God. I want to learn how to -- better than ever before -- be still. He's not inviting me (or you) into laziness. Psalm 46:10 isn't a command to an aimless life. It's internal, the wrestlings of the soul. Be still. Trust. Lean. Let it drop, and receive the treasure of doing so.