
PAUSE is a reflection written by First Baptist ministers—an invitation to have a Present, Attuned, Unhurried, Spirit-led, Experience. Rusty Lee, our Director of Stewardship, encourages us to be still and know.
A parent gave me money for college. A generous gift. The intention was genuine—I know it was. Then came the request to keep receipts. Submit them. So the exact paper trail of how the money was spent was clear.
The gift was given. But the grip remained.
I think about that every time I read Psalm 46:10. “Be still, and know that I am God.” We tend to hear “be still” as permission to slow down—breathe, unclench, take a walk. But the Hebrew word, harpu, means something sharper: Let go. Drop your weapons. Stop striving.
And this is not spoken in a quiet moment. The verses before it describes nations in uproar, kingdoms collapsing, the earth giving way. This is spoken into the middle of chaos—to people white-knuckling whatever can still be reached.
We want the credit for our giving, but we struggle to release control over the outcome of the gift.
Most of us do this somewhere. We say we trust the journey, then quietly keep steering. We hand something over, then constantly check whether it is unfolding the way we pictured. It is not dishonesty; it is fear wearing the costume of responsibility. We confuse love with management.
Underneath it is a question most of us avoid asking directly: if I am not the one holding this together, do I still matter?
That is the real question this verse asks us to sit with. Not “can you relax,” but “what are you gripping that you already released?”
And underneath that, a harder one: are you willing to consider your worth in Christ above your worth in everything you have built, given, or controlled?
Not your success. Not your generosity. Not how competent you look holding it all together. Just Christ.
That is not an easy trade. Everything else is visible. God often isn’t. But your worth was never actually tied to your grip. It was settled before you had anything worth holding onto.
Living like this is true isn’t easy. Few of us fully do. But the path there isn’t through better understanding; it is through testing it—one loosened finger at a time.
So here is the invitation to pause today; identify one area where fear is posing as responsibility. Something you already said belongs to the Divine, but you are still trying to hold together.
Open your hand—just one loosened finger at a time. Let it go. Then watch the Holy Spirit work. You might just find that you are held by the very Love you were trying to protect.
Be still—surrender—and know that I am God. Psalms 46:10
