it’s said that i write on tuesdays. but i sit here, late in the evening, afghan on my lap, and nothing is coming to mind. it’s been those sort of days recently. you know, the kind where you go through long, full days, but although they were busy, when you lay your head on your pillow at night you realize that not one significant thought seemed to go through your head all day. you immediately feel like the biggest loser, thinking that you’ve let a day be wasted, and perhaps you have, but there’s nothing you can do about the days behind. you can only do things about all your tomorrows.
a week ago (or so) my sister said something that has stuck with me. as we discussed schedules, habits, and our culture she commented, “we pride ourselves with being stressed and busy.” it made me pause and realize that perhaps she’s right (she always is). don’t we hear from every single person (myself included) the age-old sigh and comment of, “my days are so busy,” all the time? and we are. i know we are. i know i am!
but i also know this: when i’m not filling my every minute of every day, i feel unproductive and unfulfilled. my case proves that some pride themselves by how full their schedule is. i also know that as busy as i may get at times, i’m in full control of my schedule.
i’m known for saying that i’m busy and tired and weary and always on the brink of undone-ness, and although in all the days behind me i thought that seasons and days like that just plopped themselves in their lap (and sometimes extra stuff does just appear), for the most part, i’m the reason for it all. and it’s because i find my identity in how much i do and how full my schedule is.
for awhile people have been saying things to me — urging me to set more time aside to rest and be still — and although i knew the whole time that it’s all well and good, the last few days have slapped me in the face with the pride that i have in being busy. i love being busy more than i love making sure i have time to renew my soul and have moments of calm and absolutely nothing.
i’ve not been honoring the rest that we’re called to. and right now, that’s one thing that i want to change in my tomorrows. i don’t want my busyness to be an idol and i don’t want to push something aside that we’re called to do. i want to understand the power in working and doing and giving it all you’ve got, and then stopping and just being for a bit. that’s what i want.
and that’s all. i’m terrible at ending things. ask any of the poor individuals who sit through my worship exhortations week after week. i stop everything abruptly because i never have a solid concluding point.
oh. it’s march 1. my birthday is very close. remember, my birthday — the thing i get so excited about? i was reminded of it today by the dear, wonderful, loving soul who sits beside me each and every day, and i was shocked by my response. i wasn’t excited. i panicked. twenty-three sounds awfully old to me right now.
and that’s really all.
Oh, Weasie. I’m in this same camp. Can we work on this together? A retreat with a book to read and talk about and pray about? A simple notebook and pen?
Sounds almost like heaven. Love you.