The Sacred Pause

He has hit the pause button, and all the world seems to be moving forward and I am frozen in time. It is a sacred pause, not necessarily one accompanied by peace and serenity. In fact, it seems more like Jacob in Genesis 32 wrestling with "a man," always recorded as God himself. He was no longer young and impetuous, Jacob had walked more than a few miles, not many smooth. He was reduced to struggling with God for a blessing. He would not let go.

I understand this. This wrestling. This not letting go.

The sacred can be messy. And in this season, during this sacred pause, much has changed. Much has been lost. Not all that is lost is bad and wrong, yet I yearn for the familiar and predictable.

I'm coming to realize like Jacob, to wrestle and not let go. Bless me.

All that is lost is not really what He wanted to define me. I lean into the confidence that I am marked for something more. That ahead is something altogether different, not better necessarily, we are never promised that. That there is a "more" to this story, my narrative.

Abraham was called to leave what he knew and simply walk out in faith. It was in the walking. It was faith.

Our culture is a tricky one. It rewards self-starters, self-effort, self-fulfillment. Recognition and relevance earned. Performance in all things. It leeches into the church and into our faith as a cancer or toxin. A reversal on truth. Living is dying, joy is dependence. "If you abide in me...."

This sacred pause, where so much is stripped away and I see things so much more clearly yet still through a very distorted glass, might well be the blessing.