Held in Majesty and Stillness by Paul Alcorn
There is something humbling – almost overwhelming – about standing beneath a vast night sky, where stars shimmer in quiet majesty and the universe stretches far beyond what our eyes can see. In moments like these, the grandeur of God’s glory and power is unmistakable. The sheer scale and intricacy of creation—the galaxies spinning silently in their courses, the balance of life on Earth, the beauty that surrounds us – speaks of a Creator whose presence is both boundless and breathtakingly near.
Recently, I had the gift of escaping to Montville, tucked gently into the green folds of the Sunshine Coast hinterland. There, amid rolling hills, eucalyptus forests, and soft mist rising with the morning light, I felt something shift inside me. A stillness. A peace. Time seemed to move differently in that place – less hurried, more spacious. And in the quiet, I was reminded that the same God who shaped the stars also shaped the trees, the wind through the leaves, and even the quiet within me.
I’ve reflected a great deal this year on the power of stillness. Some of you may have read my blog earlier on the year on the subject, prompted by the lead-up to a silent retreat I was attending. What’s struck me through this reflection is how difficult stillness has become for many of us. We live in a world filled with constant noise, motion, and expectation. Stillness is not always convenient – or comfortable. But it is often exactly where we need to go if we want to reconnect with God’s presence in a meaningful way.
In Montville, surrounded by creation’s gentle rhythms, I found that stillness not only soothed the soul – it sharpened my awareness of God. Sometimes we look for God in dramatic moments, expecting revelation to arrive like thunder or lightning. But more often, God meets us in the quiet. In beauty. In breath. In birdsong. In the hush of early morning light. There, in the silence, I didn’t just see God’s glory – I felt it.
The Christian life invites us to this rhythm of stillness. Scripture reminds us to “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). Not as an escape from responsibility, but as a return to centre. It’s an invitation to slow down enough to notice what is always true: that we are held, known, and loved by a God who fills both the heavens and our hearts.
To experience God’s glory is not always to witness the miraculous – it is often to simply be present. To allow the noise to settle, to breathe deeply, and to realise we are part of something far greater than ourselves.
A question for you to ponder: When was the last time you allowed yourself to pause long enough to hear the whisper of God in the quiet? And what did that reveal to you about who God is?