Church this week was about calming down. 

"Be still, and know that I am God."

I don't usually ramp up before nine am but that was not always the case. There were years when just getting five kids dressed, fed, shod, and out the door was an act of courage, and I arrived in the pew more tightly strung than a banjo. 

But the message was not aimed at that moment in time as much as it was a reminder for when anxiety takes hold. Which it is safe to say happens for all of us. 

The minister broadened the nuance of that quote by giving us several translations. 

"Cease striving and know that I am God."

"Stop your fighting and know that I am God."

"Relax and know that I am God."

I appreciate that there is a duality to the directive. Our emotions, which can spool out of control, hold hands with our intellect. God invites us to both stop, and go forward. 

It reminds me of a heartbeat. While the constraints of my anatomical knowledge are narrow, there is a rhythm that works like this. Blood flows into a chamber and pauses. Then there is a pulse in which blood surges out to the body, to those organs hungry for oxygen. 

Walking, too, exemplifies this pattern. One foot takes a mini vacation, swinging through the air while the other presses into the ground. Then they swap.

The minister invited us to breathe deeply, to swivel between constricting our muscles and releasing them. Meditation is a strategy that has been calming humans down for thousands of years, and even though the particulars of our stressors have evolved, our need to navigate them remains the same. 

"Be still, and know that I am God."