Healing Quiet

 “Be still, and know that I am God.”

Psalm 46:10 (NKJV)

I walked down a hospital hallway recently and noticed a small sign. Simple. Unassuming. Yet it caught my eye.

It read… Quiet hospitals help heal.

That phrase stirred in my heart.

It makes sense, doesn’t it?

You wouldn’t host a loud party in the ICU.

You wouldn’t march a parade into a trauma ward.

No… when someone is wounded, they need quiet.

They need space to recover.

They need the hush of healing.

And dear one… is it not the same with the soul?

When your heart is bruised.

When your spirit feels torn.

When life has trampled on your chest and breath is hard to catch… what you need most is divine rest. The shalom of God. 

Not noise.

Not endless activity.

Not constant chatter.

But quiet.

Divine quiet.

The kind that soothes, like cool water on a fevered brow.

I think of the Quakers.

For centuries they practiced what was called quietism.

They believed that in the stillness, one could hear the “Inner Light” of Christ.

No pulpit pounding. No constant speaking.

Just silence… until the Spirit Himself stirred a word.

They gathered in meeting houses where they sat, waiting quietly, listening for that holy whisper.

Quietism did not end with the Quakers.

In France, hearts aflame for God embraced the same spirit.

Madame Jeanne Guyon taught that one must come before God in silence, abandoning the noisy strivings of self, to let His presence wash over the soul.

François Fénelon, a bishop with a tender spirit, carried that same truth: that stillness is not passivity but surrender…an unclenching of the fists so that God may take hold of the heart.

They joined the chorus of the deeper life, echoing that holy secret: to be quiet is to be healed.

Why be quiet?

Because God whispers in stillness.

Why wait on Him?

Because His presence restores what nothing else can.

Why enter rest?

Because that is where broken hearts find repair.

The deeper life has always known this secret.

That there is a holy hush.

A sacred stillness.

A place where the Bride waits for the Bridegroom.

Where she beholds His beauty… not in the rush, but in the pause.

Where His manifest presence flows…not through the noise of striving, but through the resting of a yielded soul.

Beloved, the hospital understands it.

Quiet heals the body.

But why don’t we understand?

Quiet in His presence heals the heart.

Quiet in His presence heals the mind.

Quiet in His presence heals the soul.

So bring Him your brokenness.

Hold your cracked, weary heart up to Him.

Sit in the hush.

Wait in the stillness.

And let the Great Physician restore you.

The Father is not in the earthquake.

He is not in the fire.

He is not in the whirlwind.

He is in the gentle whisper.

That whisper is calling you now.

Into the quiet of His presence. 

Into the rest.

Into the healing embrace of Jesus.

Stop.

Rest.

Behold Him.

Let His silence become your song.

And you will find what the loudness of the world can never give…divine healing.

Hush your heart, beloved… He is near.

Hush your striving… He is speaking.

Hush your fears… He is holding you.

Hush your brokenness… He is healing you.

Quiet hospitals help heal.

But more than that… quiet hearts help heaven touch earth.

So bow low.

Be still.

And let the whisper of His love wash over you.

With Love,

Steve Porter

www.morningglorydevo.com