Sunday, March 24, 2019

Selah


We entered the room, looking for a sign.
At the church women's conference, each room had directions posted for activities encouraging devotion in different ways. We had been given only a few minutes to be here, because there was so much to do.
On one wall, a mirror was hanging over a sofa. Using dry-erase markers, someone had transformed it into a sign, using big, beautiful, bold capital letters to spell out: "REST."
There were a handful of us in our group. All of us entered the room, and all of us sat down. One of us boldly capitalized on the huge opportunity spelled out for us -- and entered into beautiful rest.
We sat in different places, but more or less at the same vantage point. And we entered into a conversation filled by our work: describing the care that we give to our work, meeting the standards we've personally set for our work.
She sat on the sofa, under that mirror, and became a reflection of its message, as she entered into the space between words. A space that had already been set aside for us to do what was needful.
We all enjoyed discovering the activities of a conference.
She found a retreat.
She silently closed her eyes, then leaned back.
Selah.
She stretched out her legs and laid her hands to rest.
Selah.
Soon, we all heard the signal that it was time to move on.
Surely there's so much to do. But we've been given a short time to be here.
Selah.