The Important Speaks Softly
The world is crowded with voices, all talking at once—some whispering in my head, others shouting from the TV and from feeds engineered to keep me staring, stewing, and scrolling. If Christians have an enemy—and we do—this noise is not incidental; it’s strategy, because distraction is a remarkably efficient thief.
Awake, and my mind is already busy—busy on things that won’t matter by Friday. Outrage over stories that will be replaced in days by something freshly incendiary, a conveyor belt of indignation designed to keep the soul on edge. God does not want it to be this way; His desire is peace, clarity, and a renewed mind that begins with His Word, not the world’s alarms.
Most mornings, before the sun is up, the tug-of-war starts. A “just-one” video on YouTube. A quick look at Twitter (which I will never call X), and then another look that isn’t quick at all. Five a.m., and my mind is already a storm—angry at some headlines, delighted by others, and buzzing with curiosities that multiply faster than I can chase them.
The urgent is loud; the important speaks softly, waiting to be heard.
Somewhere in that whirlwind, the gentle invitation gets crowded to the edge: be still, and know that I am God. Not the earthquake. Not the fire. The still, small voice that Elijah heard—quiet enough that you have to stop to notice it.
Today, like every day, I must choose to turn down the noise—to set the phone aside, open the Word first, and let the lamp of God’s word set the path for my feet before the internet sets the path for my feelings. The world’s clamor is nonstop; there must be a sacred priority for God’s voice.
“Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)
In an age of FOMO, let’s not miss the one presence we were made for.
. . . and that’s what I know today.
