The Courage of Stillness

In Joshua 1:9, God commands Joshua to "be strong and courageous." We imagine courage as a battle cry, a charge into the fray. But the contemplative tradition reveals a deeper courage — the courage to be still.

Thomas Merton once wrote from his hermitage at Gethsemani about the terrifying moment when all distractions fall away and you are left alone with God in raw silence. No noise to hide behind. No activity to justify your existence. Just you, stripped bare before the Holy One. That, Merton understood, is where true courage begins.

Consider the practice of centering prayer. You sit. You choose your sacred word. And then the chaos rises — every fear, every unresolved grief, every voice telling you that you are not enough. The discipline is not to fight these thoughts but to gently release them, returning again and again to Presence. This small, repeated act of surrender requires the courage of Joshua standing at the Jordan's edge.

John of the Cross called it the dark night of the soul — that season when God feels absent, when prayer feels hollow, when the temptation to abandon the interior life is almost unbearable. Yet El Shaddai whispers through the darkness the same words spoken to Joshua: "Do not be afraid. I am with you wherever you go."

The next time fear grips your heart, do not immediately reach for noise or action. Sit in the silence. Let God meet you there. The bravest thing you may ever do is hold still long enough to hear the Voice that has been speaking all along.