Can I be honest for a couple minutes? Like - real, looking you in the face, honest?
I’m not busy.
My life is not busy.
Shane and I are not torn between obligations or running our family around constantly. We actually often stare at each other asking, “So, what are we going to do this weekend?”
My planner that I overspend on every year is most of the time used for to do lists instead of actual activities - and one time last week I let Rhett color all over it because he had a pen in his hand and I was done picking battles for the day.
And let’s get even more honest here - I find myself jealous of people who are busy.
"Oh we have plans every weekend from here until Christmas!"
"I’m sorry - I can’t stay long because I have another thing to be at in an hour."
"Between work and school and the activities there is no time on our family calendar."
Getting even more gritty - I associate busyness with having a life. Having purpose.
I think busy people have a fuller life with more friends.
I think busy people are better organizers - they have to be if they have so many things that need attention.
Not being busy and having quiet, slow days are hard for me. I can get restless and crabby. I start wondering what I’m doing with my life and start the whole comparison game.
But (there’s always a but) - being quiet has been so good for me this past year. I have felt an overwhelming nearness from God, I have connected deeper with a few friends, with my husband, with myself and my maker. I wish I could tell you that I have meticulously made room for all of that - but that wouldn’t be true.
Along the way, I have learned that God’s nearness alone has to be enough for me. I couldn’t feel him when I was busy - I was trying to cram so much in my life to feel valid as a human being instead of placing that identity in Christ.
A friend actually brought up my unhealthy addiction to busyness a couple years ago. We had decided to start running together right when I got off work. Her home was a couple blocks from my job and the plan was to change and head over there and sweat it out together. Easy peasy.
Being super awesome at follow through and priorities (heavy sarcasm there, I’m terrible) - 5 days a week turned to 3 days a week. Which turned to 1 day a week, which turned to “Gosh I really don’t want to run.”
A couple weeks after we completely stopped - she confronted me about it. She was hurt. She felt like I had no time to be a friend, let alone run with her. I think her exact words were, “I know you have a lot on your plate, and a lot of friends, and it’s okay if you don't want to be mine.”
My heart broke.
Unknowingly, I came across as too busy to be a friend. And I hated that because I loved (LOVE) her place in my life. Truth speaker. Encourager. Friend.
My jealously of busy people is based on lies. The lie says, “Wow! Look at their amazing life! They have so many places of connection, so many friends. So much worth.”
And what I’ve had to train myself to believe is this: No. Being busy doesn’t make you better. It’s not who you are. It’s far from connectedness (what I crave most), and actually creates division in your life if you allow it to.
As our family grows and Rhett gets older, I’m sure this will start being more of a battle for our family.
But I think this is the perfect season to sit in the stillness and become disciplined in the power of being unhurried. To love the slow moments. Creating time for more.
More wagon rides. More waffle breakfasts. More outside time. More eating with friends standing up in their kitchen, connecting. More simmering and less microwaving.
More of that.