Be Still
Stillness is not weakness—it’s strategy
I decree that this is my season of divine stillness and sacred strategy.
I will not run after what God has already reserved.
I am no longer driven by fear, chaos, or performance.
Heaven is my pace-setter, and peace is my portion.
I commit to honoring the quiet places.
To silencing the noise in my head and the pressure in my soul.
I commit to pausing—not out of laziness, but out of trust.
To listening more than striving.
To resting more than rushing.
To being more than doing.
I promise myself this:
I will not confuse movement with progress.
I will not wear busyness as a badge.
And I will not apologize for sitting down when God tells me to be still.
I’m not rushing.
I’m not forcing.
I’m not proving.
I am still—and I am safe.
I silence the inner critic that tells me I’m behind.
I silence the urgency that comes from fear, not faith.
I silence the voice that says “Do more” when God says “Just be.”
I no longer move just to feel useful.
I no longer overextend to feel worthy.
I no longer stay busy to avoid being broken.
My healing is not in the hustle.
It’s in the hush.
This month, I trade grind for grace.
I exchange over-functioning for divine flow.
Stillness doesn’t mean I’m doing nothing—
It means I’m trusting everything.
When God says “Be still,” He’s not punishing me—He’s protecting me.
When He slows me down, it’s not rejection—it’s redirection.
I don’t have to run for what’s already mine.
I don’t have to chase what’s already chosen me.
I am still.
I am safe.
I am surrendered.
I am led.
And in the stillness, I receive clarity, confirmation, and courage.
This is my sacred pause.
This is where I hear Heaven.
I declare:
I will not rush the rhythm of God.
I will not fear the quiet.
I will not despise the waiting.
Because even in stillness—He is working.
