There’s a word used several times throughout the Psalms: Selah. Although it’s hard to tell exactly what it means, it’s likely a “pause” for contemplation.
The past month has been a busy one for me – with rarely a moment to stop and catch my breath. When I found out I’d get a few days off after a stretch of working 20 days in a row, I knew exactly where I wanted to go.
In every place I’ve lived, I’ve had a safe spot I go to to catch my breath. In Georgia it’s here, at the base of Blood Mountain, wandering around an old stone building nestled between Georgia pines and rhododendron.
I’ve been coming here since before I moved to Georgia – the first time, a welcome sight for sore eyes after several days hiking on the Appalachian Trail… a bottle of cold water a taste of heaven after days of drinking from the creek.
It’s a funny metaphor – remembering the relief that washed over me the first time I saw the age worn stone of Mountain Crossings becon to me as I emerged from the wilderness. I was running and slightly shaken as I had just stepped over a copperhead. It feels like I always come here slightly out of breath, slightly off kilter from some danger I’ve just walked through.
I’m not sure if it’s the beautiful view or the thin mountain air that makes the presence of God feel so thick in this place.
Sitting here, looking out over the rolling Appalachian Mountains and listening to the tings of a wind chime, I’m reminded of other safe places in my life.
My hammock in the garden in South Africa, sitting around a campfire with Chelsea and Emily in Indiana, a tiny hotel room on the top of a mountain in Honduras with Julie and Bekah, waking up to guitar strumming outside my tent in Kentucky… running through rain puddles at Holiday World, dance parties with Chip in our freshman year dorms at UK.
Sometimes we need to take a deep breath and step into a safe place – a Selah where we can reflect and – with a grateful heart – remember all the safe places and moments in our lives. What are the moments where you’ve felt most free?
Mountain Crossings at the base of Blood Mountain
I think fog in the mountains is so beautiful.
The copperhead I stepped over while trail running.
With James and Kenneth three years ago on our first trip to the Appalachian Trail – and Blood Mountain.
