Chapter 10: Slowing

Psalm 46 is not set beside a calm lake. It is set in chaos. The earth gives way, mountains slip into the sea, and nations rage while kingdoms topple (46:2-3, 6). Into that noise, God speaks: “Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!” This is not a quiet word to quiet people. It is a command to stop at the center of a storm.

The verb behind “be still” can carry the sense of letting go, loosening your grip, the way hands go slack when you finally set down something heavy. Some translations render it as a call to stop striving. The psalm ends with the reason the body can release its grip: “The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.”

Now bring that to a very small stage: a red light. Most of us do not rage like a nation, but we do clench. Jaw tight, hands white on the wheel, eyes flicking to a phone, mind already at the next errand. Hurry is not only an idea in your head. It lives in your shoulders and your thumbs.

Comer's chapter on slowing starts from the premise that slowing the body and thought slows the soul. He offers about twenty small practices, from driving and waiting habits to limits on phone, email, social media and television. He also calls multitasking a myth and says time is life and attention is the doorway to the heart. The point is not tricks. It is training your body to believe what Psalm 46 says.

Here is one more thing worth borrowing. In his silence and solitude chapter, Comer observes that idle gaps can become openings for prayer. The examples that follow are our own application, not his: a line at the store, a red light, a pot that takes ten minutes to boil.

Pick two practices and keep them small.

First, in the car: drive in the slower lane, or leave ten minutes early so you do not need to win time back. At the next red light, let your hands go slack on the wheel and pray the first line of the psalm one word at a time.

Second, with your phone: the next time you wait, leave it in your pocket. Let the gap stay empty for one full minute. Pray something simple, like “You are God, and I am not, and you are with me.”

Neither practice will fix your life. They are small reps that teach your body to loosen its grip so your soul can follow.

A caution: if your body is racing most of the time, you feel dread you cannot explain, or you have panic attacks, slowing practices are not a treatment. Talk to a doctor or counselor. Getting help is not failing at stillness; it can be part of how God meets you.

Psalm 131 is only three verses long, and it may be the best picture of a slowed mind in the Bible. It begins with a confession of limits: “O LORD, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me.” This is not a ban on thinking. It is the relief of not having to run the universe in your head.

Then comes the image: “But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.” A weaned child no longer fusses and grabs for milk. It rests against its mother because she is there, not because of what she is handing over. The psalmist says he has done this to his own soul, calmed it and quieted it. Stillness here is something you can practice, not just a mood you catch. The psalm ends with an invitation to all Israel: “hope in the LORD from this time forth and forevermore.”

Comer's chapter on slowing argues that the mind can be slowed the same way the body can, and that multitasking is a myth. A mind pulled in six directions is the opposite of a weaned child. It is grabbing, snatching and demanding. Here are four ways to practice calming and quieting your own soul.

Single-tasking. Pick one task a day to do with nothing else open: no tabs, no podcast, no phone nearby. Eat one meal the same way. Notice how often your mind reaches for a second thing.

Journaling. Instead of letting worries circle, put them on paper for ten minutes. You are handing them off, not solving them. If the writing just feeds the loop, stop and take a walk instead.

Quiet with Scripture. Read Psalm 131 slowly, then pick one phrase, like “calmed and quieted my soul,” and stay with it for five minutes. When your mind wanders, return gently to the phrase. Treat it like sitting beside a mother, not like passing a test.

A restful ordinary day. Not a full Sabbath, just one day with slack in it. Fewer commitments, a slower evening, a walk, home cooking, no frantic catch-up. See what your mind does when it is not being fed.

Pay attention to the second part of verse 1: the psalmist gives up things too great for him. What are you carrying that was never yours to carry? A family member's choices, a future you cannot predict, a headline you cannot change. Quieting the soul often starts with handing one of those back to God.

One honest note. If your mind will not slow down, you have intrusive thoughts, or anxiety stays high for weeks, please talk to a counselor or doctor. That is not a failure of faith. It is wise care for a soul God loves.