Some are calling our experience of this pandemic “The Great Pause.” And that gives me pause to wonder.

A pause, says my online dictionary, is a temporary stop or rest, a momentary hesitation that creates space. For many (all?) of us, nothing about this pandemic is feeling very momentary. It’s getting long, this pause from the life we called normal. Normal days when we did our normal things, with real people (not on screens). We took vacations, went to parades and picnics on holidays, enjoyed good food at restaurants, movies, concerts, sitting across the table from good friends and family (the ones we don’t live with).

The memories feel forever ago to me, and the days feel scattered and hazy. (What day is it again?) For some the days give no pause at all. Others wander around trying to fill the pause, trying to find the meaning or maybe just numb the pain. All while we watch the news for signs of hope, do our best to love our neighbors, pray, grieve, and feel the collective trauma of it all in our bodies and souls.

No, it doesn’t feel momentary at all.

I tend to focus on all I’m pausing from. All the normal, all the things I love and need. And I feel the sadness of missing all the things. And we need to feel the sadness, because it’s real. The loss is real. Let’s just take a moment to acknowledge that.

But it helps when I change a word, and I ask this question: “What am I pausing for?”

What if there’s something in the world, something in me, that needs rest to be renewed or maybe to be born for the first time? Maybe there’s something that will only open up in the pressure of this pause. Something in me. Something in the world. Something we desperately need.

Parts of our planet, parts of us are only restored in the pause. In rest which requires a stopping. Now I know, and we see it so clearly now, that a certain amount of going and doing is crucial to our world economy. Work is essential to our well-being, to our survival. But the going and doing and working, without the resting, leaves us barren.

Very early in Hebrew history, God commanded rest, a sabbath, for the people and for the land. From the book of Leviticus, Chapter 25, “…in the seventh year the land is to have a year of sabbath rest, a sabbath to the Lord. Do not sow your fields or prune your vineyards.” This was not God being withholding or mean. This was God preserving the land for fruitfulness, which in turn preserves the people. He told the people, as the land rested, all would eat from the produce of that year. That there would be enough for everyone in that year of sabbath. Maybe not the “enough” they were used to. But enough for all.

This sabbath rest requires trust. Trust that something meaningful will remain, that there will be enough, and that more fruitfulness will come for the grace of the rest. Trust that, even in the great pause, all things are still held together by the One who is making all things new.

And so I wonder (yes, there’s been a lot of wondering going on) what it might mean to live more rooted in the trust that opens the rest that bears the good fruit of the Kingdom in the earth?

A rhythm of prayer that has helped open this space for me is marked by four words: Rest, Receive, Respond, Remain. It requires a pause in your day and a little silence; but it yields good fruit.

REST: Set aside five minutes and find a quiet, comfortable space. Relax, close your eyes, and invite Holy Spirit to help you connect with Jesus. You might begin by focusing your thoughts on a simple verse like “Be still and know that I am God.” Don’t rush. The quiet is the point.
RECEIVE: Ask Jesus how he might want to meet you today. What rises to the surface? Wait and see what comes to mind, what emotions rise, what you sense in your body. Ask Jesus what’s important and what he might want you to know about that. Simply listen.
RESPOND: Do you sense an invitation? What’s your response? Take a few moments to have a conversation with God.
REMAIN: Simply rest in God’s presence.

If you’d like to open more pauseful space in your life, two free devotionals on my website may help. 30 Days to a More Rooted Life and Seven Days to a More Rooted Life are built around these four Rs. You can download yours at www.susancarson.net.

May we live more pause-fully together in God’s presence.