According to a friend of mine, the expression 'selah' which appears on many of the Psalms is a mucial direction equivalent to the pause sign we used nowadays on manuscript.  A bit more than the apostrophe type sign that means 'breathe' for choristers of wind players, a bit more important than the bowing direction sign for string players or fingerings for pianists.

Selah.  Pause.  (Or, as in Psalm 46 - stop!  desist! If only for a moment)

I've just had most of two days doing just that.  Meeting friends (I hope they are happy to be counted such) in Knutsford, Warrington and Manchester.  Catching up on news, sharing food and laughter (in various combinations) - it has been good.  It has also been a reflection of reallife, in all its mixed experiences.

At Christmas Lunch (I had beef - too early for turkey!) with my nuclear industry former colleagues it was noticeable that some familiar faces among the 'retireds' were absent, ill heath and age take their toll.  There was a realisation that next year, some of those present this year probably won't be.  I always enjoy meeting this crowd, and am touched that they choose to invite me back (apparently God is not counted as a competitor employer!).  It was good to chat to some of the lads I'd trained, now confident and competent in their roles; interesting to discover someone I recruited is now a team leader.  It was sad to hear of disillusionment, of anxieties over the future, of people signed off with stress (what happened to the happy company I worked for?).  I left reminded that these are people I still love after all this time, people who still, from time to time, contact me for a bit of support, people who remain part of my life, my ministry.  I was asked today if I missed that life, and the truth is that I don't, though I was a bloomin' good risk assessor (if I say myself, who shouldn't!).  I miss the camraderie, the banter, and the knowledge that, if push came to shove, these people were there for each other.  Could have been a good church really...!

An overnight with a long standing friend and space just to blob out, drink tea and unwind.  As I type I'm having a Theresa of Avila moment (rats!) that I wrote something very similar last year, and probably the year before that.  The church of which this friend is a member has had a very stressful year, and the future is far from clear, though there are some exciting possibilties opening up.  Having been in membership of that church myself, and it having a special place in my own story, it is sad to watch what is being experienced, and to hear of the ongoing hurts and hurting that happens.  So, good to catch up, good to relax, but again a tinge of sadness.

Then in to Manchester to see my longsuffering research supervisor who manages to make sense of my late night typing and then to turn it into sensible ideas.  I went with two aims - I wanted to be told I needed to put in more time to my research work, and I wanted to be told I could make a case to go to a different summer conference.   I came away with both achieved, so I came away happy!  (Though we failed to fix a date for another meeting, so my organisation genes are twitching!!).  It was good to hear a little of what is going on in college life, another place I hold quite dear, and to discover that the future is looking like another increase in student numbers.  Good also to catch up with one or two other tutors/staff albeit briefly.

All too soon, back home and a pile of emails, phone calls and post to deal with - can I print more leaflets for this, you need more chairs for that, how about this last minute addition to the other.  The pause is over, and normality, such as it is, returns.

I think I know that I need to spend less time blogging and more time researching, but I also know that I need more time that is 'me' time - time to be, time to relax, time to share with the numerous people whose lives overlap with mine.  Selah; pause.

This spoke to me when I read it this afternoon.  If I didn't see you when I was passing through the North West, I am truly sorry, I simply don't have a time machine.  Whoever you are, wherever you are, thank you for your friendship during another manic year in the life of Catriona.