Let us listen. Let us be silent. And listen.
Noticing, as we considered in the previous chapter, is a start. Noticing our speed, our pace, our rapid rush. Noticing also what is near us. It takes a pause to notice.
Thinking about how spiritual disciplines are moments of wonder, of freedom, of sitting beside my Father at the true “living room” of life. Reading words of honesty throughout Scripture: history, psalmistic confessions, good news, promises of peace. Eager to see how the Listener will answer a few prayers.
Recalling the tranquility of a pause, my rapid pace might slow a little.
Rejoicing in a segment of time, my hope might surface again.
Pausing and noticing aren’t easy these days. At least, not for me! I write about it often because I’m trying to practice what I type. Even my moments of silence and solitude are strategically planned in my list of duties. But when I force myself to become un-forced, when I schedule a non-duty moment, I can breathe. I can hit pause, knowing the earth keeps spinning, the Creator keeps loving, and this heart keeps beating.
The word means to wait, to stop. Pausing is an action and attitude that isn’t easy for me. As humans, we often hurry too much, do too much, speak out our feelings too quickly, and plan schedules of non-stop duties and tasks. We desire, so we pursue. We crave, so we insist. We want, so we expect.
Choosing to pause can help us notice why we’re behaving particular ways. We hit pause to think, to consider, to evaluate, to pray, to seek the views of a friend, to listen, to observe, to calm down before reacting. Hit pause often. To think, to learn, to obtain various options and views: hit pause.
As we fly through the years, I pray we pause.