From Selah to Shalom

I wasn’t looking for a word from God when it happened. I wasn’t fasting, journaling, or in some deep moment of intercession. I was simply sitting with my thoughts when one single word dropped into my spirit with a weight that made everything in me stop moving. The word was pause. Nothing fancy. Nothing poetic. No scripture reference attached. Just pause. And it landed so heavy in my chest that I knew it wasn’t random. God was speaking, even if I didn’t yet understand what He was saying.

The timing of that word made it even more significant because the night before I had prayed one of the most vulnerable prayers I’ve prayed all year. I told God, “I feel You pulling me closer. I feel this yearning for You that I can’t shake, but my life feels so full. How do I answer this pull without resisting You? I want to be wrapped up in You so deeply that people don’t even see me anymore.” That was my cry. That was the ache of my heart. And the next day, the only word heaven released into my spirit was pause.

At first, I wrestled with it. Pause what? Pause who? Pause how? My life is full, not chaotic, and yet I knew God wasn’t talking about my calendar; He was talking about my posture. Something in me sensed God was inviting me into a stillness I had not yet explored. As I sat with the word, trying to understand what He was saying, God brought another word to mind, Selah. It wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was more like a gentle nudge, a reminder resting underneath the surface. And immediately I remembered that Selah, especially in the Psalms, means pause… to stop, to reflect, to breathe, to let what God is saying settle into the soul.

That was the moment the revelation began to unfold. The word God originally spoke was pause, but the language He used to deepen my understanding was Selah. It was as if God was saying, “This isn’t just a break. This isn’t a step back. This is a holy pause… a sacred interruption… a Selah moment that I Myself am orchestrating in your life.” Selah became the lens through which I realized God wasn’t slowing me down to frustrate me; He was slowing me down to draw me deeper.

For a while, Selah was the only word echoing in my heart. But then something else began stirring, a familiar word from the CCDA Conference I just attended. The theme of the entire gathering was Shalom, a word I have studied, taught, and embraced, but had not connected to the Selah God was pressing into me. Honestly, when Shalom first came to mind, I laughed because all I could think was, “Here we go again, Selah and Shalom. Pause and Peace. S and S. P and P. You can tell I’m a preacher because even my revelations are starting to alliterate.”

So, I thought I had figured it out. But Shalom kept resurfacing in my spirit. And every time it came up, it started to make more sense. I began to realize that the Selah God was calling me into wasn’t the end of the message. It was the beginning. Selah was the pause, the sacred stopping. But Shalom was the result… the peace, the wholeness, the alignment that comes after you obey the pause.

As I move toward the end of this year and prepare to step into a new one, these are the two words God has woven into the fabric of my spirit: Selah and Shalom. A pause that purifies, and a peace that grounds. A stopping that clarifies, and a wholeness that strengthens. I feel God forming me, drawing me, holding me, and instructing me through these two words. And my declaration in this season, not because it sounds poetic, but because it reflects what heaven is doing in me, is simply this:

“I’m Selah-ing to hear God clearly and Shalom-ing so I can walk whole.”

But I know this word isn’t for me alone. I believe God is calling many of us into this deeper rhythm; into a slowing that makes space for a settling, into a pausing that makes room for peace, into a listening that prepares us for the clarity we have been praying for. We are a people who move fast, serve hard, love deeply, and carry much. But even the strongest among us need a Selah. Even the most willing among us need a Shalom.

So here is my challenge to you:

Where is God inviting YOU to Selah? And what part of your life is waiting on the Shalom that comes after the pause?

What would happen if you stopped long enough to let God speak to the places you’ve been pushing past?

What would shift if you allowed Him to slow you down so He could settle you?

Where might you walk more whole if you gave God permission to interrupt you long enough to heal you?