There are days when life feels like standing on a slanted slope, skis pointed downhill — where one wrong move could send everything sliding faster than we intended. The momentum builds before we can regain balance, and suddenly, the noise of motion drowns out the whisper of peace.

In those moments, God invites us to slow down and walk circumspectly — to pause, check our footing, and get spiritually re-centered. Stillness becomes the sacred act of reclaiming balance. It’s how we cleanse our spirit so that our hearts can once again hear His voice clearly.

Clearing the Clutter of the Soul

I once wrote, “It’s like using a shovel to remove the dirt in dirt.” Sometimes our spiritual vision gets so clouded that we can’t even tell what needs clearing. We layer distractions over the holes in our hearts, hoping to make them look whole again — like throwing a cover over a broken floor, unaware that someone might step there and fall through.

God, in His mercy, doesn’t allow us to decorate danger. He exposes weak spots not to shame us but to protect us. Stillness gives Him permission to uncover what we’ve tried to hide and to rebuild what we’ve neglected. It’s an uncomfortable grace — but it’s grace nonetheless.

Because the truth is, His voice overrides chaos and confusion.

Even when disappointment clouds our view or relationships shift in ways we didn’t expect, God’s voice remains steady. He doesn’t always explain, but He does reassure. He doesn’t always rush in with clarity, but He surrounds us with peace that surpasses our understanding.

Trusting in the Midst of Disappointment

There are still disappointments that sting — conversations that didn’t go the way we hoped, alliances that dissolved, doors that closed after we invested time, love, or prayer.

But as I sat with the Lord in stillness, I heard Him remind me:

“You have to trust Me more than you trust what you see.”

I don’t always understand why things shift the way they do. I see in part — glimpses of His greater pattern, but not the full picture. And sometimes, that partial vision can be a real drag. The puzzle pieces don’t yet fit. The edges are jagged. But faith whispers, Keep holding the pieces; I’m not finished arranging them.

When Alignments Change

This season has revealed fresh separations from past alignments and familiar alliances. Some of these changes feel like loss, but in truth, they are holy reassignments. God is refining the company we keep and the assignments we carry, not to diminish our influence but to deepen our dependence.

When God shifts who and what we’re aligned with, it’s because He’s clearing space for new divine connections — ones that match the maturity of who we are becoming.

It’s normal to question direction when that happens. It’s normal to feel the ache of change, to wrestle with uncertainty, to wonder if we heard Him right. But stillness teaches us that faith doesn’t flourish in certainty; it flourishes in surrender.

That’s when trust in God steps in — right at the intersection of confusion and calling.

The Zigzag Season

This is a season of zigzags — a time when forward motion doesn’t always look straight. Sometimes obedience feels like going in circles or retracing old steps. But the truth is, God rarely moves in straight lines. His path is more like a series of divine pivots — teaching us flexibility, humility, and unwavering faith with every turn.

We must keep moving forward, even when the route feels disjointed.

Even when the path of obedience takes us through detours.

Even when our hearts are weary from the waiting.

We move knowing that our efforts have not been in vain.

Every seed of faith, every act of obedience, every quiet prayer whispered in hidden spaces has built something unseen — something eternal.

The work we have done, the love we have poured, the faith we have fought to hold onto — none of it has been wasted. God sees it all. He multiplies it all. And He reminds us that what’s planted in faith will never die barren.

I heard the Lord say in my quiet time, “Your season of following in the footsteps of others is over. I will be your next step. You will feel a strength within your soul, a stripping of emotions you have identified with in your past, and the separations you experience moving forward will be for the benefit of what I’m asking you to build in this season. You will no longer lean on the wisdom and voices of others. If you faithfully believe, you will hear me say very clearly, “This is the way, walk in it.”

Stillness as the Anchor

Stillness doesn’t mean inactivity. It’s not the absence of movement; it’s the presence of divine awareness. It’s standing steady in the swirl and knowing that even when the ground feels unsteady, the One who holds it all is unshakable.

When we still ourselves before Him, the cluttered noise of our fears quiets down. We begin to sense His nearness again. Our spiritual ears open, and we recognize that His voice has been there all along — guiding, guarding, grounding.

Psalm 46:10 whispers the anchor verse of this entire rhythm:

“Be still, and know that I am God.”

Stillness doesn’t just quiet our surroundings; it purifies our sight. It gives us spiritual discernment to tell the difference between what is temporary and what is eternal. Between what feels good and what’s truly God.

What Stillness Looks Like Right Now

If this is your zigzag season too, take heart.
You’re not lost — you’re being led differently.

Let your stillness today include these three quiet actions:

Pause to Perceive.
Ask the Holy Spirit to reveal what’s truly shifting versus what only feels shaken. Not every change is loss. Some are divine upgrades.
Release to Receive.
Lay down the disappointment you’ve been rehearsing. Let go of what you can’t control. Make space for what God wants to fill.
Listen to Lean.
When you hear His voice, lean into it — even if it feels uncertain. Obedience is the bridge between confusion and clarity.

Closing Stillness Prayer

Father, thank You for reminding me that You are constant even when life feels unstable. When I feel disoriented, teach me to walk circumspectly and stay grounded in Your peace. Expose every false covering I’ve placed over broken areas, and heal them with Your truth.
When disappointments arise or alignments shift, help me to see through Your eyes and not my own. Let me trust that You are arranging the puzzle pieces of my life with divine precision.
Even in seasons of zigzags, steady my heart in stillness. May I move forward strengthened, knowing that the work You’ve begun in me will never be in vain. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Reflection Thought:
Stillness is not the pause before movement — it’s the posture that keeps us steady while God moves on our behalf.

When the Ground Feels Unsteady