Raphah: Releasing Fear in the Middle of the Battle

If you do an online image search for “Be still and know that I am God” you’ll probably get pages of serene images – beaches, sunsets, candles, flowers – I even spotted a hammock.

And yet Psalm 46, where we find that well-known verse, paints a very different picture. Mountains quake and waters roar. Nations are in uproar, and kingdoms fall. It is in the midst of turmoil and trouble, that the Lord says “Be still and know that I am God”.

This is a battlefield, not a spa day.

The Hebrew word used here, I’m told, is Raphah, a word meaning to release and let go, to relax your grip.

In a battle sense, it means to let go of your weapon or your shield. Whatever it is that you are holding onto – to survive, to protect yourself. Let go of that.

And “know that I am God”. It’s God’s job to protect us. To sustain us. To give us life.

What are our mountains and battlegrounds? The psalmist was a warrior, but where do we don our armour?

In modern day work, most of us are not on literal battlefields, but we can find ourselves in battle mentality. Defending, protecting, pushing, proving.

How does my fear kick in to protect me?

This is an area I’ve been exploring in my work with organisations experiencing high change and challenge, and in my podcast What the Fear?!

Defend. Deflect. Dismiss. Defer. These are all versions of fear at work. In the wild, our survival instincts take the shape of fight, flight, freeze or fawn. In the workplace, it becomes something I call High Functioning Fear.

Proving and pleasing is how it shows up most for me.

When I’m on stage, delivering a keynote, when the stakes are high and I know this matters – my fear can put me into proving mode, where I tell myself this has to land, has to be right. I have to win them over.

Raphah tells me to release my hold on the outcome, my sense of having to control, having to get it right. When I do, I find myself more present, more able to tune in to what’s going on in the room. My focus is on my audience, rather than myself. On connecting rather than controlling. Which of course makes me a better speaker.

It reminds me that my mantra as a speaker is to be the light, not the star. A star says: look at me! A light says: look at you, or look at this. My purpose is not to shine and impress, but to serve and inspire.

The same goes for high stakes conversations. When I find myself in the middle of an argument and my instinct is to stand my ground and prove my point, to explain, justify, clear up that misunderstanding or win this person back on side… God has been saying to me in that moment: Raphah. Release. Let go. Let me.

When I do, I find myself more able to listen, to hear what really matters, and be heard myself. We can actually have a conversation that addresses whatever needs to be addressed, rather than a fight where we’re each protecting our own ego.

And when the demands are high, and my instinct is to hustle on harder and work my way through, Raphah reminds me to release my grip on the to-do list and the fallacy that it’s up to me to make it all happen. To stop. Rest. Be still. And yes, smell the flowers and appreciate the sunset!

Raphah calls me to trust. And know that God is God, and I am not – and that is a very good thing indeed.

What about you? Where does fear put you into battle mode? What is God calling you to release as your weapon or your shield? What does Raphah look like for you?