Be still.

It's snowing that perfect kind of snow right now. Snow globe kind of snow. Big, fluffy flakes floating down slowly, landing gently, layer upon layer.

It's perfect for a day like today when I'm feeling reflective. Introspective. When I'm thinking about the Big Picture and wondering (as I do periodically) if I am doing the right things and going in the right direction.

I am incredibly blessed, and for that I am thankful. I am surrounded by people who love me and I know it. I have an amazing husband and two healthy children, a modest home, all the essentials of life and then some. Praise God.

But there are days when something tweaks me. Someone's unkind words swirl around and swoosh down into my ears and rattle around in my brain causing a noise that keeps me awake at night. A mustard seed of doubt grows into a monster the size of which I don't have the energy to fight at 2 a.m. So I refuse the invitation to duel.

Most things appear much better in the light of day. And while my first instinct is to busy myself and turn on the television to drown out the sound of the uglies, I don't. Instead I sit in the quiet and allow myself to breathe, and I wait for those hurtful words or that thing I struggled with to realize my heart and soul are not welcoming environments for their types. Return whence you came, dudes. I don't have time for you.

On days like this I always think of Psalm 46, which talks about God being our fortress even when the world is crashing down around us. Verse 10 reads, "He says, 'Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.'"

Be still. Nothing else matters. In a world that is constantly telling us we should be on the move every minute of every day, it's hard to be still without guilt. But we are commanded to do it. Over the years I have learned, and I continue to learn just how.

Stop the madness. Watch the snow. Be still.

Things are looking better already.