I’m drawn to calm people. Not vacant, like the light is on but nobody’s home. Not arrogant, as if they’re holding tight to the reins of control. I’m drawn, instead, to those who exude “settledness,” a centeredness. Their insides aren’t churning. Their tongues aren’t wagging. They aren’t fretting, stewing, or clamoring. They are functioning in their gifts and aren’t threatened by yours. They are anchored in Christ, and the sea within them is still. I find that kind of steadiness compelling.
Calm isn’t innately who I am. My insides have always been skittish, which I’m sure is why I’m drawn to soft music, gentle rain and quiet spaces. I need the soothing influence they offer.
Some time ago, a friend who hadn’t seen me for a couple of years commented that I was much quieter on my insides than she had known me to be in the past. “That’s the only way I know how to say what I’m feeling and experiencing, Patsy”, she said sweetly after a lengthy visit.
I remember being so heartened by her assessment because I felt God was confirming the work He was doing in me. Like sparks from a flint when they catch soft kindling, the flame of Christ’s prescence and the work of His Spirit were being seen in my life. I was thrilled.
Do others see a calm spirit in you?