Stand Still and Consider

 

The Silence That Leads You to The Saviour

Job 37:14 Hearken unto this, O Job: stand still, and consider the wondrous works of God.

Job's Invitation to Spiritual
Contemplation

"Hearken unto this, O Job: stand still, and consider the wondrous works of God." This profound exhortation—spoken from the whirlwind itself calls us to interrupt the noise of complaint, justification, and desperate questioning, and instead to stand still.

“Stand still”

To stand still is to surrender the frantic need to have an immediate answer. There are moments when faith does not begin with doing more, speaking more, or figuring everything out. It begins with becoming still before God.

Stillness creates space for you to remember that God is working even when you cannot see the end. You may see confusion; God sees the whole story. You may see the present moment; God sees the beginning and the end. You may feel surrounded by unanswered questions, yet the absence of an answer is not the absence of God.

When you stop moving, you stop trying to escape. You stop trying to fix. You stop performing. In that stillness, you are finally present enough to see. The constant motion of fear, anger, and self-justification no longer obscures the view. Standing still is the posture of humility the acknowledgment that your way is not working, and that you must become quiet enough to receive something beyond yourself.

The Work of Consider

To consider is to turn your full mind and heart toward something. It is not mere glancing observation; it is deliberate, sustained attention. You are invited to contemplate the wondrous works of God not the comfortable, expected parts, but the entire tapestry of the actions of Jesus Christ: creation's majesty, providence's mystery, judgment's severity, grace's inexplicability.

Consider the snow and rain that feed the earth. Consider the eagle's nest and the doe in labor. Consider the leviathan and the hawk. In Job's context, these are not gentle nature scenes they are reminders of a reality vaster and more complex than human suffering. When you consider God's works honestly, you encounter something that resists easy explanation. You are confronted with a God who is neither bound by your logic nor indifferent to your pain.

So when you are tempted to believe that everything depends upon your strength, stand still and consider.

Consider Christ.

Consider the cross.

Consider the empty tomb.

The Truth Found in Silence

But here is what I must say to you now...

Sometimes the stillness feels terrifying, because in silence, you might finally hear the truth that all your striving to justify yourself, to earn your way, to prove your worth has left you exhausted and alone. So stop now. Stand still before the Jesus Christ who knows every fracture in your heart.

And as you quiet yourself, consider this: the greatest work of God the one that transcends all creation, all providence, all the bewildering mysteries of your suffering is salvation itself. He is not distant. He is not theoretical. He is the divine answer written in blood and resurrection.

Jesus Christ entered your condition. He bore the weight of every failure, every shame, every ache that has bent your back. Through the death of Jesus Christ brutally real, scandalously human  Jesus Christ absorbed the full cost of your brokenness.  And then, in the resurrection, He split reality open. He declared that death has no final word, that suffering need not have the last say, that you broken as you are can be remade.

This is not a rescue that avoids your pain or explains it away. This is redemption that enters the pain, transforms it, and opens a door to a restoration you cannot yet fully imagine. The death and resurrection of Jesus Christ is God's ultimate work, His masterpiece of love, His final and sufficient answer to the human condition.

So stand still. Consider. And know this: you are not required to understand everything to receive everything. Salvation is your restoration, your reconciliation, your rebirth is God's work, not yours. It is offered to you now, in this very moment, by a God who loves you not because you have earned it, but because you are infinitely worth dying for.

Alive and Awake By the Quickening Spirit

The Power of the Last Adam

1 Corinthians 15:45 And so it is written, The first man Adam was made a living soul; the last Adam was made a quickening spirit.

The Dichotomy

In the architecture of eternity, 1 Corinthians 15:45 stands as the great bridge between what you were born into and what you were born for. It describes two "Adams," and in doing so, it describes the two fundamental versions of humanity. The Holy Ghost of God, contact is seismic and profound: two Adams, two modes of life, two natures and two different endings. 

The First Adam: A Living Soul

The first Adam represents the "natural" man. In the Genesis account, God breathed into him, and he became a living soul.

• The Direction of Life: The first Adam was a recipient. He was a vessel that received life from an outside source.
• The Limitation: Because his life was contingent and biological, it was subject to decay, gravity, and eventually, death. He represents the "blueprint" of our earthly existence—beautiful, but fragile and prone to breaking.

The Last Adam: A Quickening Spirit

When Paul speaks of the "Last Adam" (Jesus Christ), he isn't just describing a better version of the first man; he is describing a being of a completely different order. He is a quickening spirit.

• The Power of "Quickening": In archaic English, "quick" means alive, but "quickening" means life-giving.
• The Source of Life: While the first Adam was a consumer of life, the Last Adam is the source of it. He does not merely possess life; He radiates it. He is the sun that generates heat rather than the rock that merely absorbs it.
• The Divine Shift: This is the pivot of the Gospel. The Last Adam does not just come to fix the first Adam; He comes to replace the "living soul" model with a "spirit-empowered" model that death cannot touch.

The Work of the Quickener

To be a "quickening spirit" means that Christ has the authority to impart His own nature to others. This is why the Gospel is not merely a set of rules, but a transfusion.

1. Internal Resuscitation: He reaches into the "dead" places of the human experience—the regions of grief, failure, and stagnation—and breathes a new type of life into them.
2. Beyond Biological: This life is not dependent on your health, your circumstances, or your stamina. It is a spiritual vitality that can thrive even when the physical "living soul" is failing.
3. The Final Answer to the Grave: The quickening spirit is the engine of the resurrection. It is the guarantee that the "blueprint" of your life will one day be fully realized in a form that is incorruptible.

The Last Adam is Jesus Christ

You know the weight of trying to sustain your own soul, the frustration of watching your best intentions unravel, and the quiet fear that your internal "battery" is slowly draining toward zero. You have lived as a "living soul" bound to worry, frustration, fear and death.

But the Gospel of Jesus Christ is not a set of instructions on how to fix your life; it is the announcement that the Quickener has arrived and want to see you, now.

You are being offered a salvation that is more than a legal pardon; it is a spiritual resuscitation. The moment you the free gift of Jesus Christ, His "quickening spirit" begins to surge through the deadened regions of your soul. 

You do not have to white-knuckle your way into heaven. You can be quickened by the gospel Jesus Christ today, right now.  You can be regenerated to be made of the image of Jesus Christ…

If you have any questions please do not hesitate to respond back to this post we will be more than happy to talk with you.

The Right Word at the Right Time Is a Lifeline

Careless Words Drain. Seasoned Words Sustain

Colossians 4:6 Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man.

This passage from Colossians 4:6 is the "culinary art" of the Christian walk. After putting on the wardrobe of mercy, kindness, and longsuffering, The Holy Spirit of God tells you how to serve up answers the right way.

To "season" your speech isn't about being "salty" in the modern sense. It’s about being purposeful.

Seasoned speech — what the metaphor means

Grace = a kind, generous tone: warmth, patience, humility.
Salt = several qualities at once: flavour, preservation (keeps relationships from rot), clarity (cuts through vagueness), and a subtle sting when needed (honest correction). Together they mean: speak kindly but honestly, so your words nourish, protect, and wake others without destroying them.

Likewise, speech “seasoned with salt” preserves truth in a decaying environment. It keeps conversations from moral rot. It prevents corruption — gossip, cruelty, exaggeration, flattery.

Salted speech:

• Refuses to lie
• Refuses to distort
• Refuses to decay into bitterness

It guards integrity.

The Consistency: Always with Grace

Before the seasoning comes the base. Grace is the foundation of the Christian's vocabulary.

• The Atmosphere: Grace implies a pleasantness and a favour. It means your default setting isn't "argumentative" or "defensive," but "gracious."
• The "Always": This is the hardest part. It doesn't say "when you're treated well" or "when you're at church." It means when you're stuck in traffic, when you're being criticised, or when you're discussing the "lies of higher criticism" mentioned in your doctrine.

Why Seasoning Matters

Notice the purpose:

“that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man.”

Different people require different responses:

• The skeptic needs thoughtful clarity.
• The wounded need gentleness.
• The arrogant need truth.
• The grieving need presence more than argument.

Salt represents discernment. It is the wisdom to know how much to say, when to say it, and how to say it.

Too little salt — speech becomes weak and ineffective.
Too much salt — speech becomes abrasive and unbearable.
Rightly seasoned — speech nourishes souls.

Perfectly Seasoned Conversation

At its core, seasoning your speech is an act of deep, quiet love. You live in a world that is often bitter, bland, or biting. Most people walk around with "flavourless" souls, exhausted by the noise and the coldness of everyday interactions.

When you take the time to season your words, you are essentially telling the person in front of you: "You are worth the effort of my preparation." A single, well-seasoned word can be the difference between you giving up and you finding the strength to try one more time. Your speech is the meal you serve to the world; let it be something that doesn't just fill the silence, but actually nourishes the spirit.

When Love and Grace Ends the Argument

Love (III)

Love bade me welcome. Yet my soul drew back
                              Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
                             From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
                             If I lacked any thing.
 
A guest, I answered, worthy to be here:
                             Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkind, ungrateful? Ah my dear,
                             I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
                             Who made the eyes but I?
 
Truth Lord, but I have marred them: let my shame
                             Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame?
                             My dear, then I will serve.
You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat:
                             So I did sit and eat.

George Herbert’s "Love (III)" is a profound dramatization of the Gospel, echoing the heart of the King James Bible. It captures the moment a soul, "guilty of dust and sin," encounters the personification of Jesus Christ—not as a stern judge, but as an loving and gracious Host.

A Dialogue of Grace

• The Reluctant Soul: Like the prodigal son, the soul "draws back," convinced that its "scarlet" stains make it unfit to stand in the presence of Holy Love. It attempts to disqualify itself based on its own unworthiness.
• "Quick-eyed Love" refuses to accept the soul’s self-condemnation. When the soul argues that it has "marred" its own eyes, Jesus reminds the soul of His authority as Creator: "He that formed the eye, shall he not see?"
• The soul offers to "serve" as a way to pay its way, but Love points to the Cross: "Who bore the blame?" In a stunning reversal of roles—reminiscent of Jesus washing the disciples' feet—the Master insists on serving the guest.

The Heart of the Matter

There is a specific, quiet agony in feeling that you are "too far gone" for God. You may often treat your shame as if it were more powerful than the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, pulling away from the table because you are embarrassed by the "dust" on your clothes. You want to work, to pay, or to hide.

But the Love of Jesus Christ is "quick-eyed"—He sees the sin, yes, but He sees the person through the lens of His own blood. He does not want your service until He has had your heart. The most difficult part of the Christian life isn't the "fight" or the "race"—it is the humility required to sit down and let the King serve you.

The stark truth of this poem, and the King James Bible itself, is that the "Hiding Place" we seek is actually a banquet. You don't have to fix yourself to be a guest; the Host is the one who makes you worthy. When you finally stop arguing with God about how "bad" you are and start believing how "good" He is, the tension breaks. You "sit and eat," and in that holy fellowship, you realize that you aren't a servant in the kitchen; you are a beloved child of God, seated at the Master’s table.