EDITOR'S NOTE: In October 2021 I began a new venture writing a newspaper column titled "Finding Faith" for the Forum Communications Co. network of newspapers and websites. I was asked to contribute to the company's ongoing conversation about faith, lending a Lutheran and fairly ecumenical approach to the discussion. The column was published in several of the company's papers and websites, including The Forum of Fargo-Moorhead. This column originally appeared as a "Finding Faith" column on Oct. 7, 2022.
By The Rev. Devlyn Brooks
The popular scripture from the Psalms was scratching at my conscience.
I was driving a country highway, headed to my next destination for the day, with a load on my mind. Still even more to check off that day, I reminded myself. So I was only vaguely aware of the sunset taking place.
The obligations of life had recently begun piling up. I knew I was in a challenging two-week stretch. And this evening jaunt, after an already long day on the road, was dragging me down.
Even throwing up an audible prayer for patience, endurance and peace -- a practice that normally quiets my inner turmoil -- was failing me that night. But stealthily, creeping forward in my conscience, there it was …
“Be still, and know that I am God …”.
I am aware I do this too often; I believe I can manage through my difficulties all on my own. And so, I pushed the scriptural tug back to the subconscious level, and trudged down the highway.
Maybe, just a little music was all I needed. … Wrong. The music didn’t help anymore than the silent brooding had.
“Be still, and know that I am God …” … There it was again, knocking on the door of my conscience, begging me to take notice.
I tried making a couple of phone calls to folks whose conversation picks me up when I’m in a funk. Both rang through to voicemail. … Unavailable. The effort did nothing to improve my mood.
“Be still, and know that I am God!” … There it was again. Louder this time. More forceful. Almost as if God decided to use a megaphone.
“OK, already!” I silently shouted back in my head. “I admit! I can’t do this on my own!”
Just then, as I took the right-hand turn that would take me west toward my destination, the horizon beyond my windshield exploded into a technicolor dream, filled with a blazing autumnal setting sun! There was a low cloud cover and the effect made the sky itself look like it was ablaze in fire!
The sky became a brilliant tapestry of reds, oranges and yellows radiating out from the sun. And it was all wrapped gently in a bear hug of clouds of every blue and purple hue imaginable.
Breathtaking! Heart stopping! A kind of sunset I’ve never seen before. A sight that stopped me in my tracks, right at the intersection, unable to move because I couldn’t take my eyes off it.
No cars in sight. I put my truck in park. I stepped onto the highway and allowed God’s handiwork to swallow me up.
My mind was blank other than … you guessed it: “Be still, and know that I am God!”
Lesson learned, again.
Devlyn Brooks is an ordained pastor in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, and serves Faith Lutheran Church in Wolverton, Minn. He also works for Forum Communications Co. He can be reached at devlyn.brooks@forumcomm.com for comments and story ideas.
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