I’m well-versed in seeking God with a mind full of clutter. I’ll confess and say that for quite some time, that was the way I tried to seek Him. I walked away frustrated that He wasn’t saying anything when the truth of the matter was that I didn’t take my thoughts captive in order to hear Him. I leave no space for His Word when I am entertaining the words of the enemy, and while I would love to say I am completely beyond that, I am human and, on occasion, it happens…like today.
Clutter collided with my desire to hear Him this evening, yielding more frustration than what I was already experiencing because of the chaotic state of my mind. Despite all my attempts to surrender my thoughts, I continued in the push-and-pull of trying to quiet my thoughts and then running with them into a state of full distraction.
That is, until the whispering of one word: selah.
I know what this word means, but knowing and understanding the meaning of something does not translate to effortless application. The application is unique to the circumstances, and as a person whose mind works incessantly, I often find myself to be the greatest obstacle between knowing and understanding something and applying that knowledge and understanding.
Progressively, the word selah’s presence gained clarity, revealing what He had for me in it at this particular time. Each noisy thought was countered with the whispering of it, and with each utterance came an invitation to see how God wanted me to apply it.
When its full development came, I found myself standing before the lone picnic table in the middle of my beloved woods. God asked me to literally live out the meaning of selah, which, in this instance, included lying atop that picnic table. I battled a small concern about what this may look like to those I had passed earlier on the trail. When they came upon a grown woman, lying atop a wooden picnic table with her eyes closed in the middle of a state trail, what might they think? Yet again, though, my thought was met with a whispering of what I was called to do at that moment, and that call did not include concern for what others may think.
I had to consciously choose to be willing. My willingness was fueled by the frequency and prevalence of the word “selah” in recent days. I was quite aware that the clutter in my mind was due to my current season; a season of simultaneous waiting and wondering, hoping and praying, and trusting and surrendering. I had little choice but to live out its meaning: to rest, breathe, and contemplate what God has done.
The clutter dissipated atop that table. No longer did I wrestle with my thoughts; no longer did I engage in battle with them because I lived out the meaning of selah. I departed transformed and prepared for what He had for me at my next destination. I departed grateful for His calling of me on this hike, for the people and avenues through which He had gifted me the word “selah” in the days leading up to it, and for His flawless orchestration of an invitation to live out selah. I departed grateful for yet another measure of faith, as I was reminded that He speaks to us constantly - in the calm and the chaos - because of His love for us. Everything that happens around us all day contains His voice. His chosen medium and His message may vary, but His voice never does. And He is faithful to clear out the clutter with the murmuring of even just one word.
Selah.