Stillness in His Presence

At Mass yesterday, in the midst of having my fidgety toddlers, I was able to hear a bit of the homily. And it pierced me inside. The priest said, “Why are we in a hurry?” It struck me deeply. Because I am always in a hurry — finding things, changing babies, folding laundry, cooking, trying to meet the endless demands of motherhood. And in that moment, I realized how easily I let the noise and busyness of life pull me away from peace. If my children see me always rushing, anxious, and unsettled, what will they learn about stillness? About trust? About resting in God’s love?

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

That verse has been echoing in my heart since yesterday. It’s a gentle invitation from the Lord — a reminder that His presence is not found in the rush, but in the rest.
He doesn’t ask me to have everything perfect or to do everything right.
He simply asks me to be with Him.

When I slow down enough to breathe and sit quietly before God — even if it’s just for a few minutes during nap time or before bed — I begin to feel His peace soaking into the places that feel tired and restless.

“The Lord will fight for you; you have only to keep still.”
— Exodus 14:14

God doesn’t need my constant motion to work miracles. He needs my trust.
He desires my heart more than my productivity.
He’s not asking for perfection — He’s inviting me into His presence, where His perfect love heals what my striving cannot.

“The world is noisy and full of turmoil, but in silence and solitude, the soul finds God.”
— St. John of the Cross

Stillness isn’t about doing nothing — it’s about allowing God to be everything.
It’s sitting before Him with the awareness that I am deeply loved, flaws and all. It’s resting in the truth that He is the perfect Heavenly Father, who delights in me even when I feel undone.

And in that stillness, something beautiful happens — His love begins to shape my heart. My patience grows. My peace returns. And little by little, that peace spills over to my children too. At night, I took some time to not only reflect, but to make a determined decision, “Tomorrow I will be not rushed.”

“You learn to love by loving.”
— St. Francis de Sales

So today, I’m learning to pause — to stop rushing through the sacredness of this ordinary life.
To be still long enough to feel His presence in the laughter, in the chaos, and in the quiet moments in between.

Because in His presence, I remember:
I am loved.
I am held.
And He is enough.

To embrace each chaotic moment that seems a little crazy, but know that this moment isn’t going to last. My children will grow up and I will age and things will change.

What reminded me yesterday at mass:

Having young children shouldn’t make us feel like we need to live in a constant rush.
It’s okay to slow down, to breathe, and to embrace the small and simple moments — even when things feel chaotic. God is in control — even in the mess, the noise, and the motion. When we learn to rest in His timing, we teach our little ones that peace isn’t found in hurrying through life, but in trusting the One who holds it all together.

Reflection:
What would it look like to spend a few minutes today just being with Him?
No words. No agenda. Just your heart open to His presence.

Let His love fill the quiet.
Let His peace soften the noise within.
And let your soul rest in the truth that you are deeply, perfectly loved.