Til in thy Holy Presence, Hushed…

My Father, quiet me,
Til in thy holy presence, hushed,
I think thy thoughts with Thee.

~A.C., Dohnavur Songs, item 99 (from Amy Carmichael: Beauty for Ashes, by Iain H. Murray)

These words were the prayer of Amy Carmichael, circa mid-1930s.

Amy, an energetic, passionate missionary, gave every inch of her life to the rescue of low caste children, in India from some of the very similar horrors of child slavery around the world that we read about in our current day.

Reading her biography, we discover that her world was fully of dichotomies:

• The mundane daily tasks of care-giving for the ever-increasing numbers of children rescued and brought to the home at Dohnavur
• The intense moments of crises and fear and exhilaration and grief that were a part of the work that comprised Amy’s days

While most of us will never experience some of the life-threatening scenarios Amy Carmichael experienced in her calling, we do face our own dichotomies of both the mundane and heart-wrenching days.

The change the toilet paper roll take the dog to the vet wipe the fingerprints off the window put gas in the car pay the utility bill wipe the snot attend the board meeting sit in traffic sit in the carpool lane chauffeur the kids to tee-ball gymnastics soccer little league piano lessons ballet class file taxes submit the spreadsheet mow the grass get a physical stir the macaroni and cheese attend the business dinner get the car inspected days.

And the days that threaten to knock us flat on our faces in anguish – days when we are completely undone:

When the diagnosis comes.
When the layoff comes.
When we lose a loved one.
When we learn our children are doing drugs.
When the fire destroys our home.
When we sense God’s unmistakable presence and His glory and holiness.
When evil crosses the firewalls we think insulate us and our loved ones.

All of these life-things create a sense of chaos in our lives – and we find ourselves seldom, if ever, truly still. Try as I might, with all the effort I can muster, rarely am I truly at peace. Truly quiet before our God.

But–here is the beauty of Amy’s prayer:  Our Father knows this about us. He knows this about me – and it is only our God who can quiet our souls. It is only our God, who can hush the chaos of our lives.

That’s not to say there are not things we are to do, in order to be still and know that He is God.  We must practice spiritual disciplines.  We must devote time to spiritual disciplines.  Prayer.  Scripture Work.  Worship.  Care for our bodies and for our minds.  Rest.  Quiet.

But it is our Father, who does the stilling.  It is our Father, who settles our unquiet minds and souls. It is our God, who is our only refuge. We see that so very clearly in the words of Psalm 62:5-8 (ESV):

5 For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence,
for my hope is from him.
6  He only is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress; I shall not be shaken.
7  On God rests my salvation and my glory;
my mighty rock, my refuge is God.

“My Father, quiet me, ’til in Thy holy presence, hushed….”

However, the quieting of our souls and minds, is not the end objective.  It is good, and right, and beautiful, yes.  Our Father God gifts us with that peace and stillness of mind and soul, sometimes even in the most grievous and terrifying moments in our lives.

But that is not where Amy ended her prayer, and neither should we – what we most desire, or, rather, what we should desire, is to echo with Amy the plea to God, to “think thy thoughts with thee.”  To see the world as He sees it.  To see the needs around us, as He sees them.  To see our sin as He sees it, and to see the forgiveness He extends to us, as He sees it.

We need His grace and mercy in order to see His sovereignty in it all – in the mundane, in the joyful days, and in the tough stuff that overwhelms and cripples us.

And when He hushes our quaking – when we breathe deeply in of His grace – when we are still and know that He is God – and when He causes us to think His thoughts through what we read in scripture and through what we know to be truth about who He is–

–it is then that we can assuredly find ourselves able to leave the circumstances of our life – the grief, the pain, the joy, the sorrow, the fear, the uncertainty – all of it – to our God to order and provide.

Be Still my Soul is a profoundly beautiful hymn, written in the early 1700’s by Ka­tha­ri­na A. von Schle­gel. The words are meaningful, of course, when sung in church together in corporate worship. However, I find that singing the words of this song when I am alone, on my face before my God in all the chaos of life and in desperate need of his grace and mercy, is when I find myself quieted by my Father, my soul hushed in His holy presence.

Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change, He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: thy God doth undertake
To guide the future, as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
His voice Who ruled them while He dwelt below.

Be still, my soul: when dearest friends depart,
And all is darkened in the vale of tears,
Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe thy sorrow and thy fears.
Be still, my soul: thy Jesus can repay
From His own fullness all He takes away.

Be still, my soul: the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord.
When disappointment, grief and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past
All safe and blessèd we shall meet at last.

Be still, my soul: begin the song of praise
On earth, believing, to Thy Lord on high;
Acknowledge Him in all thy words and ways,
So shall He view thee with a well pleased eye.
Be still, my soul: the Sun of life divine
Through passing clouds shall but more brightly shine.