Be Still My Soul

Brian Doerksen's "Be Still, My Soul" carries Katharina von Schlegel's 1752 hymn, its opening line borrowed almost directly from the psalmist's own instruction: "be still, and know that I am God." "Be still, my soul, the Lord is on your side, bear patiently the cross of grief or pain" doesn't promise the grief will be short-lived, only that it isn't being carried alone.

"Be still, my soul, for God will undertake to guide in future days as in the past" leans on a pattern rather than a guess — the same faithfulness already proven before is the basis for trusting what's still unknown. "All now mysterious shall be clear at last" doesn't pretend the confusion isn't real in the moment; it just refuses to treat the confusion as final.

"Be still, my soul, the waves and winds still know His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below" reaches back to the gospel accounts of Jesus calming a literal storm, using that same authority as evidence for the hymn's central command. By the closing lines — "all safe and blessed we shall meet at last" — the repeated "be still" has shifted from an instruction into something closer to a settled fact.