“I don’t know how you do it,” a friend told me. “Church, kids, writing.”
“I don’t sleep,” I said, half-joking. (We have a newborn; it’s only half a joke.)
While moving fast, going quickly, and multitasking may be impressive in a world filled with content-creating and service-providing and like-share-click-tweet, they aren’t good. Running at the speed of light, our hair metaphorically on fire, is the opposite of what the gospel calls us to do. Living at a frantic pace is the opposite of what God calls us to. (Plus, multitasking is counterproductive!)
I’ll admit it—I am a chronic do-too-much-er. I don’t often do just one thing at a time. I cook dinner with a podcast going, drive to work while brainstorming a project idea, sit with kids at the park while catching up on scheduling appointments. (I feel bad for the receptionist at my dentist’s office who is as likely to hear “Be careful on the jungle gym!” as “Yes, April 6 at 2 p.m. works great for us!”)
I wrote a whole book about the importance of slowing down, but I struggle to take my own advice. And here’s the thing: at a frenetic pace, we often miss essentials. People. God. The curve of a toddler’s brow that tells us he needs an early nap. The weary set of our boss’s shoulders that reminds us he’s had a long week and to offer encouragement. The achingly beautiful way the sun is setting, an ephemeral gift to us from an everlasting God.
By going too fast, we miss everything.
A great deal needs doing, to be sure. The world is in chaos, families are in turmoil, our planet is wearing out, communities are in pain. We can be tempted to feel the pressing weight of the entire world on our shoulders and run frantically to do all we can. Who will save us if we don’t keep striving—and quickly?
Read the rest over at The Glorious Table.