Feb 23, 2012
Why We Need to Stop Before Moving Forward
Taking Root is a series of meditations I’m writing and editing for Central Vineyard Church during the season of Lent. You can download a podcast for each day of Lent by subscribing to my church’s podcast or visiting the podcast blog for each day of the series.
If you ask people what they want, they’ll mention things like this:
- More time
- More efficiency
- More speed
- More simplicity
- More convenience
- More leisure
I sense the tension of these desires when I just want to run out to the store for a minute. See the word I chose there? “Run.” I want to do things faster and more efficient. Sitting in traffic, waiting for a slow computer, or fixing a leaking kitchen sink all slow me down, make me less efficient, and steal precious time that I crave.
The problem with running all of the time is that it transforms us. I’ll bet if you asked people how they feel, they’d mention words like these:
- Busy
- Stressed
- Worried
- Rushed
- Distracted
In my own life I saw this impact when I started going to physical therapy for neck problems. The therapist said that my body was wound up tight, as if I was living in fear of a tiger attack. I’d never thought that my body could give me clues to my mental state. Once I stopped to pay attention, I wondered how I could have missed them for so long.
My shoulders were often shoved up and I sometimes arched myself forward, straining my neck and leaving my shoulders in two tight balls. My brow often furrowed, and if stress started to take hold of me, my breathing became difficult and worry fluttered in my chest.
My body had been sending me these signs and many others for a long time, but I’d pressed on. I didn’t know how to deal with a body suspended in constant motion, always tense and concerned about something, always looking for the next thing I need to do.
My physical therapist, acting much like a mental therapist, suggested the first step: stop. For the busy, worried mind, the best place to start is nothing.
The Discipline of Forcing Yourself to Stop
There is a battle for control going on between ourselves and our daily cycles of activity. Though the cycle may feel natural and even preferable, it will wear us down. We’ll stop one way or the other. The key is to choose when you will rest.
Stopping takes us out of that cycle of activity. Once we’ve stopped, we can begin to step back and truly see what’s going on. I’ve found that I can’t do much by way of prayer if I don’t stop first. And I can’t identify the obstacles keeping me from God unless I stop.
Stopping Means Sacrifices
Each day brings a tension of straining to cultivate a quiet inner Spirit that is sensitive to God, while serving our loved ones, staying on task at work, and pursuing life-giving leisure activities. I sense this kind of roller coaster each morning as the day starts moving and I enter the cycle of activity that propels me forward.
If I don’t stop first thing in the morning, it’s hard to drag myself away from the motion of my day. It’s all too easy to flip open my computer, turn on the radio, or pick up an entertaining book in the morning rather than creating a sacred place where I can stop and wait. Stopping means giving up on certain things that I enjoy until I learn to enjoy the actual practice of stopping.
Stopping Means Facing Ourselves
Who knows what you’ll face when you do stop, and speaking for myself, that’s a big part of the problem. Activity and distraction feels good. The self-reflection that may take place when I stop is what I dread—at least at first.
This is why simplicity and solitude practices by themselves can be rather bleak without the promise of God’s intervention. What will we do if we uncover unhappiness, greed, or selfishness? How can we deal with these things we uncover in our solitude and stillness? The truth is, there’s a lot more to stopping than we may realize.
Stopping Is Where We Start
It’s easy to look at the spiritual masters of Christianity such as Thomas Merton or Henri Nouwen and to marvel at the deep insights they gained from their quiet moments with God. However, all Christians start in the same place: stopping. This is a step in a process, a practice that you can work on without too much experience.
When I am removed from the cycle of activity, I can reevaluate my choices. I can see myself in different circumstances and then identify the sources of stress. I can cultivate new habits that will help me lead a more balanced life.
Stopping Reminds Us That We Aren’t Defined by What We Do
Bank accounts in the black, happy family members, and praise from colleagues are important, but stopping for a period of time each day removes us from the cycles of activity keep our minds and spirits in a constant state of motion. This constant motion uproots us from the nourishment of God, disconnecting us from his strength and power for each day.
We’re not defined by what we do each day, but by what God is able to do in and through each of us. Without quiet moments where we stop and make ourselves available to God, we very well could hit a point where we feel lost, confused, depressed, and disconnected from others.
The art of stopping gracefully keeps us open and available to God, fights against the imbalances of daily life, and reminds us that motion is not constant. While we may convince ourselves that we want more speed or efficiency, what we really crave deep down within is a sacred slice of time where we come to a full stop.
Taking Root in the Greenhouse
Do you find it hard to stop each day? Is there a place in your home that can become a sacred corner where you can find quiet? (Hint: You may need to wake up early in order to make this work.)
If you aren’t sure what stopping is supposed to look like, just try to sit still for five minutes. Let your mind wander wherever it wants. In fact, the places where your mind goes when you rest are often the very things you need to commit to God in prayer. For now, just learn to sit still and to value stopping.
You can still stop while in motion. Sometimes a mid-day or early evening walk is a great way to stop—removing yourself from all of the activities that keep you busy. Once again, let your mind wander and just focus on walking. Don’t plan your list for tomorrow. Enjoy your walk!












I once heard Jeremy Begbie preach, “Don’t just do something…Sit there!”
That’s a good one for Lent!
Ed, I think this could be the best thing you’ve ever written. I love this. I am going to print it and put it on my wall. And re-post and pass along the link to everyone I know who will like this too.