Tag: Monday Motivation

Selah

Tracy

Selah: A Time to Cease

There are times in life when we feel tossed helplessly about by overwhelming circumstances, when we long for the Prince of Peace to shout a command and calm our storms. But then there are times when I find myself in a storm of my own making, like a child making waves in a bathtub or stirring a current in a swimming pool. The waves I’ve created are splashing water up my nose; my own current is now sweeping me away. And there is a moment of panic, of helpless struggle, as I realize I can no longer resist the power of that rushing water.

I want the “storm” to cease, and yet I’m helplessly running along with that rushing current—round and round in circles. Because if I try to stop, the water will sweep over my head and push me under. So I keep circling with the current, even though I know that with each step I take the current gains momentum.

But the moment of truth must come. The moment of decision. “Be still!” says the Prince of Peace: He commands me and not the waves. Will I obey and take the risk of drowning, or will I continue to be swept away? I stop. The water rushes over, swells around me, and for a moment I can’t breathe. My footing gives way and for a few steps I’m dragged along. Then I remember the Rock. Yes, the Rock that is higher and stronger than I, and I cling to it until the momentum of my current ebbs and slows and all is still once more.

Selah.

A mystery word, appearing throughout the Psalms and Habbakuk. Is it a command to the singers to pause and let the music swell? Is it a pause for the musicians and singers to stop and meditate? How long is the pause? Is it similar to the musical rests that we see in our music today? A mystery, and yet perhaps the point is not the pause itself.

With any pause or rest or change in tempo, there is re-direction, drawing attention away from one thing and to something else. Maybe it’s a tempo we are comfortable with and words that are familiar, then pause—and we wait, attention riveted on the conductor for permission to begin again. It’s just like God to know that our minds would wander even as we utter ageless wonders, truths so familiar to us that we can chant them while we think about projects left undone and dinner yet to be prepared, then Selah—and we suddenly redirect our attention from the mundane back to the Timeless.

Or maybe it’s the swell that has us distracted, the current of our own chaos sweeping us away, then Selah—we redirect our attention, hope, and energy to the Rock instead of the waves. The mountains tremble, the nations rage, and we wring our hands in hopeless despair; then Selah—Be still and know that I am God. (Psalm 46)

A sudden stand-still, an immediate ceasing that captures our attention and helps us to see what we may have otherwise missed, like slamming on the brakes interrupts conversation and turns everyone’s attention to the road.

God interrupts our finite existence with His infinite presence: “Be still—and know that I am God.”

A Full Plate but a Light Burden

Tracy

“You have a lot on your plate.” It’s a statement I hear often, and I know it’s true. I homeschool, I cook nearly everything from scratch to accommodate our food sensitivities, I’m a pastor’s wife with various responsibilities and projects, not to mention I work at home now as a writer. It’s a full plate. It’s easy to feel like I’m pulled in a thousand directions, to feel overwhelmed by the tension. There are days when that full plate seems too heavy.

Perhaps that’s why the book Rhythms of Grace resonated with me. The author Kerri Weems discussed the tensions we often feel from too much to do. Her comment was that we feel tension when those tasks have opposing priorities. But, if there is a way to have every task share the same priority, our pace of life would change. That’s what her book is about: changing your pace, setting your life’s rhythm, “discovering God’s tempo for your life.”

It’s easy to let our “to-dos” set our life’s rhythm. But my life purpose is not to check off all the boxes for the day (though it gives me great joy to do so). My purpose is to seek God and know Him more. And the delight is that I can accomplish that in so many varied ways—cleaning my house, making meals, serving my family and church family, teaching a class or Bible study, writing a story, or ministering in an assisted living facility.

To see my to-dos and projects as either achieving the same goal or at odds with each other was new—and liberating. The idea brought so much clarity.

Were each of my tasks serving a purpose of their own? Were all of these activities part of separate agendas? Or was I seeing each task, each project, as just one more way to seek Him? These questions help me to cut what doesn’t belong and embrace what does. Most importantly, these questions help me to remember why I do what I do.

I’m not pulled in a thousand different directions. Instead I have a thousand threads weaving my life into His. With each task, I have the grace and opportunity to know Him more. Yes, I have a full plate, but that full plate can be a feast of His goodness and grace in my life.

Embracing Solitude

Tracy

Monday Motivation

Perhaps it’s the introvert in me, but certain times of the day I absolutely crave solitude. And with three lively {loud} children filling my halls and both levels of my house with their whoops and hollers, I especially crave silence with that solitude.

So I carve out a space in the afternoon, a quiet time that is rigidly observed. It’s a time for Littlest to nap and the older two to choose creative activities that aren’t as noisy (coloring, drawing, reading, legos). And as the echoes of screaming chaos fade into the bliss of afternoon stillness, I sink into my favorite chair to savor the moments. But, oh! does that time seem short, even more so as Littlest is now in a big-boy-bed and his naps are consequently shorter.

But I’ve recently discovered that my habits for my time may not be the best use of my solitude. Am I really allowing myself to be alone?

Here’s what I’m getting at. My first moments of stillness consist of immediately connecting to the world-wide-web of people and information. I turn off the noises in my house, and open immediately to the “noise” of email and facebook. I am not “alone” but simply surrounding myself with a different group of people, a wonderful group of people but people no less. And so, rather than using these precious few moments to really nurture myself and connect with the One who can renew my strength for the last lap of my day, I distract myself.

Am I ditching the internet? No, I need those connections and friendships with people. But I also need to steward them well, to keep those connections and the internet in check.

It’s much easier to fill my life with noise (even good noise) than to be still before the Lord and delight in His presence, to sharpen the creative gifts He’s entrusted me with, and to rest.

Trying to find more solitude and serenity for your own life? Check out these 52 other ideas that are inspiring me.