Leave Nothing
- Samuel Jon
- Sep 4
- 3 min read
Some songs do not just stay in church; they follow you home. They become part of your rhythm, showing up in the everyday moments of life. Lately, one song has been doing exactly that for me: Be Still and Know by New City Collective, written by my friend and worship pastor, Justin Kintzel, along with others. I want to be clear: I am not speaking for Justin or the group about what they meant when they wrote it. I am simply sharing how God has been using these lyrics in my own life, and maybe it will resonate with you too.
On Sundays, when worship is powerful, it is undeniable. The band is tight, the voices rise, and God’s presence feels almost tangible. But even when everything does not line up musically, worship is still good because worship is never wasted. And yet, the songs that mean the most are not just written for the sanctuary. They are written out of Scripture and real life so that they can be applied to our lives. That is why this song has been with me in the ordinary and practical realities of my day.
There is a part of the song that just stops me every time, the bridge:
Be anxious for nothing, nothing.
Cast all your cares and leave nothing, nothing at all.
Sometimes you have to sing that loudly, almost desperately. It is not performance; it is surrender. It is emptying yourself before God. And when you truly pour out every last anxious thought, every weight, every fear, there is nothing left but space for Him to fill. That is when His presence feels overwhelming in the best way, when you have stopped holding back and left it all at the cross.
Another lyric that keeps echoing is this: Come and behold, child, you are known, and all the grace that you need's already won. That is beautiful, because being known is not always easy. It means God knows not just the times you have been hurt, but also the times you have done the hurting. And yet, He meets both realities with grace. Grace for your failures. Grace to forgive others. Grace to move forward without bitterness. And all of it was already won at the cross.
That is why worship matters in the middle of our struggles. It is not just singing; it is releasing. God does not want the polished version of us. He wants the messy, anxious, burdened version. He says, “Give it all to me. I have already paid for it.” And when we do, He replaces it with peace, freedom, and life.
Psalm 46:10 says, Be still, and know that I am God. That is not just a poetic suggestion. It is a command and an invitation. To stop. To sit down. To silence the noise. To let God’s presence be enough. That is what this song has been teaching me, to bring Him every care, to leave nothing behind, and then to be still long enough to let Him fill the empty space with Himself.
So here is the challenge I am sitting with, and maybe you will too: This week, do not just listen to worship, live it. Sing the bridge when anxiety comes. Pour out what is weighing you down. Leave nothing in the tank. And then be still, and know that He is God.