I don’t know about you, but the current ‘storms’ in the world sometimes feel overwhelming. The bombardment of news and social media means I’m constantly reminded about the wars, clashes of religion, ideology, politics, destruction, violence against women, children, and animals, games of power and images of a world in chaos. Some days the urge is simply to hide my head in the sand. I am learning to recognise this as a yearning for a still point, a place of peace and stability that anchors me. 

Dr Ela Manga, the author of Breathe – Strategising Energy in the Age of Burnout, suggests that “still point is a moment in time when the noise of everyday life is filtered out and a deep state of peace, joy and well-being-centred aliveness is felt” (2018:21). From a faith perspective, this still point is not just a metaphorical concept but a reality rooted in our relationship with God. On a recent retreat facilitated by Trevor Hudson, he invited us to speak these words from Isaiah 30:15 again and again:

“In returning and resting is our salvation

In quietness and confidence is our strength.”

I’m aware that scripture frequently uses the imagery of storms to describe the trials and tribulations we face. Jesus calmed the raging sea, demonstrating his authority over chaos and fear (Mark 4:35-41). This passage is not only a testament to his power but also an invitation to us to trust him in the midst of the noise and the chaos. When the disciples panicked, Jesus was asleep in the boat, undisturbed by the surrounding turmoil. His calm presence amidst the storm is a powerful reminder that external circumstances do not have to govern my inner peace.

Finding a still point may require an intentional shift in focus. Instead of being consumed by the storm, scripture invites us to fix our eyes on Christ. Isaiah 26:3 tells us, "You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast because they trust in you." This steadfastness, this unwavering trust, is our still point. It is not found in the absence of storms but in the presence of God within them. 

I am reminded that centering prayer and meditation on Scripture are essential practices in cultivating this inner peace. In the quietness of centering prayer, God reminds us that God is with us and has not abandoned us. The awareness of a great love at the centre of the universe becomes the still point.

I recognise that by focusing on God’s faithfulness and the blessings in my life, I counterbalance the weight of the raging storm. Gratitude shifts my perspective from what I lack or fear to what I have been given, anchoring me in the reality of God’s goodness – the still point.

For me, nature and retreating in silence offers another still point. A homecoming to my senses and a canvas for noticing and sensing the divine love within and around me. Aliveness comes in the space where the wind cleanses my soul, where the ground embraces my weary vulnerability and I am invited again to breathe:

“In returning and resting is our salvation

In quietness and confidence is our strength”. 

Can I suggest that finding a still point in the midst of the storm is a journey of faith? It is about trusting in God’s presence and power, regardless of how turbulent the storms and  chaos may be. This still point is not the absence of difficulty but the presence of peace that comes from knowing that God’s great love is at the centre of this sphere of life and chaos we call home.