What We Learn When We Slow Down
Think about the last time you were completely still for ten minutes. When was it?
What was it like to be still? What thoughts entered your mind? Did any emotions rise to the surface? Did your breathing slow?
If you can’t recall the last time you were still for ten minutes, let me gently invite you to try it — even now. Set a timer. Put your phone away. No music. No talking. No productivity. Just ten minutes of being.
As you sit, notice your thoughts. Notice your emotions. Pay attention to your body.
When we intentionally quiet the world around us, a whole new world opens within us. And for many of us, that inner world is uncomfortable. We often build busier and busier lives to avoid ourselves.
When we slow down, we might notice:
how tired we truly are
loneliness, even when surrounded by loved ones
long-held dreams not yet realized
inner tension we’ve been pushing aside
grief or fear that hasn’t found words
I know this is true for me. A hurried life is one of the quickest ways I disconnect from myself, from others, and from the Lord. When busyness becomes my rhythm, overthinking and paralysis often follow. Big emotions surface. Negative thought patterns take hold. It doesn’t take long before I no longer recognize myself.
And this is where Scripture offers us a mirror … a story that reflects our own limits.
Elijah was a prophet who ministered during the reign of King Ahab, a time when Israel had turned toward false gods. Even his name, “The Lord is my God,” stood in contrast to the culture around him.
On Mount Carmel, Elijah confronts the prophets of Baal. He calls down fire from heaven, and the Lord responds decisively. The people fall in worship. It’s a moment of power, clarity, and visible success. A true mountaintop experience.
But Scripture tells us that immediately afterward, Elijah unravels.
Threatened, afraid, and utterly exhausted, he runs for his life. He collapses under a tree and asks God to let him die. His body gives out before his faith does.
And it’s worth noticing how God meets him.
There is no rebuke. No disappointment. No command to be stronger. Instead, God sends an angel to provide food and rest. Elijah is met with care before he is met with correction.
Only after Elijah is nourished and rested does God speak, not through wind, earthquake, or fire, but through a gentle whisper.
Elijah had to slow down to hear.
Listening required stillness.
And stillness required care.
This is not just Elijah’s story. It’s an invitation for all of us. Growth rarely comes through force. More often, it comes when we slow down long enough to listen to our bodies, our stories, and the gentle voice of God.
