Another year of learning, growing, and bumping around all clumsy.
A year focused on pausing was so necessary - far from perfect, but it feels ingrained now. And I felt a spotlight on some areas where I truly struggle to pause - I can name those now. Keep fighting for those moments where I push back on the panic and pace of life.
I am also pretty pleased with my SippingSelah project - also not perfect - and not every capture as stunning as I usually wanted. But looking back through all of them I realized what a crazy ride this year was and how glad I am they were captured in this way. And I was also humbled by friends encouraging and embracing this project and bigger vision.
Friends. Pausing widened spaces for connection that I normally push aside. There is still room for growth - but time and space are bending. Flexibility marks this year, which doesn't mean I have mastered it by any means, but I have released quite a bit of my usual protest. As I spoke about in an earlier post, I learned that pausing is less in my control than I had romanticized. I wanted to control when and how I paused and usually I found a different way of being during those many forced pauses.
In that post, I wrote:
Learning to be in that uncomfortable space of unknowns and anxiety. Learning to actively pause - if that can be such a thing - engage with the pause instead of pounding on the locked door screaming that you want out. Instead, to sit in the silence and observe. To allow those pauses to teach me and strengthen me. Each time they arrive (which has been a lot lately) they don't seem to be any less scary, but I think this is a much bigger exercise in trusting. Pausing when every nerve and fiber is screaming to do the opposite.
So many chaotic weeks, miscommunication, disappointed expectations, technology meltdowns - all part of the pausing territory that I hadn't anticipated.
Re-writing my expectation of what the space to pause looks like. The time and space isn't always ideal - but that doesn't mean you can't pause. In fact, those moments necessitate a pause more than the quiet room with a candle. Fighting for Selah, and being grateful for the imperfect moments, which I am still practicing to embrace.
So, 2017? What's on that horizon of yours?
Around November a word kept appearing and I began to toss it around. It feels like a natural transition from Selah, Selah part two perhaps.
A Hebrew word meaning hello, good-bye, peace...
completeness, soundness, welfare...
I have a feeling Shalom, like Selah, does not come automatically or always easily - but with intention. In community and not really of my own accord, but in leaning into God's provision.
Communion with God in the hard moments. Where hearts are broken, the world looks fuzzy and wild, and when you're weary.
And also in the joy, the laughter, the light.
Cheers 2017 & Shalom!