SELAH

The wind and the trees are having a conversation. I am both eavesdropper and interpreter, doing my best to understand what is really meant in all this commotion.

There’s a word in my favorite book that is repeated over and over again, “Selah.” Wedged between one phrase and then the other, it is believed to be the breath between the verse.  

My favorite songs are ones in which I can hear the inhale as audible as the words. A skilled vocalist knows the importance of taking that necessary moment to fill the lungs even before making a sound. 

Selah. 

The pause makes room. It is the white space between notes that gives each the opportunity to come alive, to resonate, to develop and build.

The pause is the inaudible grace we extend to others between what is meant and what is said. The pause is the peacemaker and neutrality zone that allows thoughts to navigate oceans of emotion before landing on shore. 

Selah. 

The wind is howling now but I am not howling back. I am allowing it, re-framing what feels like fear into a reverence or awe that acknowledges behind so much power lies a quiet grace. 

Today I read that we give an average of thirty-three minutes of our precious time to Facebook each day.  1.4 billion of us [nearly 18% on earth] sip our coffee, lounge on our sofas, walk to meetings, and even drive our cars dropping into dozens of “conversations” with nearly no context for the lives behind the words and virtually no investment in the outcome.

We share our eating habits and our recipes—our intimate information about our families and the details of private moments with people we have never met, all while feeding the dogs, brushing our teeth, and taking out the garbage. And without even thinking we comment from a place of anger and offense.

We have such big opinions and so little investment in other people’s lives.

Selah.

This is the place where I take my own deep breath. The wind is in me now, asking me to revere its silence as much as its roar. 

On this day alone, 500 million stories were shared. 500 million revelations that we are a planet starving for contact and connection of any kind. 

Four million “likes” per minute. But are we really being heard? 

Isn’t it telling how we can feel as if we are “all talked out” when our loved ones get home and we’ve been alone most of the day?

We are exhausted by the sounds of unknown voices before the conversations that really matter happen in our own homes. 

Selah.

So many voices swirling in my head. It’s like mingling at a party…no investment…no understanding…no context…no completion.

My favorite thing, my “essential as breathing” thing is sitting across from another someone and looking them in the eye. “Tell me your story,” I invite, and then I do my very best to close my mouth. 

This is where the supernatural lies. Where fresh wind blows into souls and spirits and something held tightly begins to release and give way.

This is the sacred space [that is missing] between post and comment—when we sit back or lean in, gently laugh or shed a tear…when the lesson washes over us and we begin to not only SEE but BECOME another point of view.

Selah.

The pause—The willingness to be silent. The reverence for holding space.