Bear with me, here. I promise I do have a point but it’s going to take me a minute to get there. Let’s start with this: I am quite finished with the concept of an over-booked schedule.
Do you hear me? I mean it. I’m tired of cramming too many things into every day and feeling like I’m wrung dry by the time I crawl into bed. This is no way to live.
If I’m understanding the cry of the culture, I’m not alone. Michael Hyatt’s talking about this problem, Lysa TerKeurst just wrote a book about it, and the faces of my friends who are caught in their own endless busyness clearly indicate that we are a culture who has lost its collective mind. We need to slow down. We need to stop doing it all. We need to catch our breath.
Part of my new campaign (such a fancy and official word– campaign. Heh.) on this blog is that we’ll be doing less and listening more together. I want to have less things to own, less things to do, and more time to build relationships that matter. So I’ve been picking up a few books here and there to help us refocus.
These books have failed me. Oh, if you could only peek in to my anguished, swirling mind. Because here’s the thing– you can take back a schedule and cut out the things. You really can. But then what? What are we really supposed to be doing with our time? Are we supposed to be cutting everything out so we can nap more? I don’t think that’s the point, either.
Busyness keeps us moving, so we never have time to consider this. The frantic pace shuts out the real question, which is what are we really supposed to be doing?
Jen Hatmaker’s book Interrupted was one of the books I thought would clear my head. Instead I’ve spent the last few weeks with increasingly crazy thoughts as my mind bounces from one option to another. At first, I’m not going to lie, I wasn’t buying Jen’s argument of what a Christ-centered life and church is supposed to look like. Her church is deeply rooted in service to the poor and needy in their community, and while that is certainly a crucial part of a church’s purpose, I don’t buy into the idea that the church is supposed to become another homeless shelter or social services agency or even a hospital.
Yes, Jesus fed people. And he healed the sick. He was adamant about social justice. But none of those issues was his main focus. A few years ago our church tried an outreach where we went down to the homeless shelter in Kalamazoo and had a cookout for anyone, in or out of the shelter, who wanted to eat with us.
Agonizing. The experience was agonizing. Because I am all about building relationships, but I am not at all excited about hopping in and out of someone’s afternoon with a hot dog in my hand.
The memory of how I felt completely inadequate and quite stupid and bulbously overfed rings in my mind years later. I wished I could have walked into the kitchen and spent an entire week washing the dishes. Then I would have had a chance to serve, but more importantly, to truly get to know those exact same people at the shelter.
This leads to the important question– so why didn’t you, Jess? Why didn’t you spend a week working in the shelter’s kitchen? The truth is simple. I didn’t have the time. I didn’t have the time then, and I don’t have the time now. I could make the time, but then I’d be right back to the main issue which is that my schedule is out of control. And, quite possibly, yours as well?
There are hundreds of good and worthy things we could all be doing right now. Feed the hungry, volunteer at the hospital, visit the elderly, read to the children, pick up the litter, counsel the youth, save the earth… But we also have jobs, we have children, and we have lives to live. How do we balance the needs of the world with the needs in our own lives?
Just as the crazy voices in my head were reaching a fever pitch, I found this in Interrupted and suddenly Jen Hatmaker and I were best buddies again:
How much more tangible is the gospel when someone experiences it over weeks and months with a real believer whom he or she can ask questions of and learn from by observation? When a Christian consistently treats someone with compassion or demonstrates integrity at work, the gospel wins a hearing. We can continue to invite unbelievers to church, but we must first invite them into our lives. Have them over, go to dinner, welcome them in. (pg. 205)
And then, a few pages over:
Believer, your pastor or your church can never reach your coworker like you can. They do not have the sway over your neighbor who has been entrusted to you. No one better than you can love your wayward brother. One decent sermon cannot influence a disoriented person in the same way your consistent presence in her life can. (pg. 207)
And suddenly my path was clear again. I don’t need to add more things into my schedule. I can love others right around me, right in the midst of my pared-down, sane schedule. So, be prepared. If you’re standing next to me after school as we wait for the kids to be released– you’re my new mission field. If you teach my kids–blammo! You’re up. Next door neighbors, consider this your fair warning.
Maybe one day, when my kids aren’t so little and I have a chunk of time, I’ll add in a new service project at the shelter. Maybe you have that block of time available right now, and if so, go for it! Reach out. But until that time, I’ll be focusing on the people right around me.
And, dear readers, if you’d like to join me in my crazy thoughts, I’d love to have you with me. Here’s my current reading list. I’d like two-page book reports on each tome, on my desk by Thursday morning. (If you’ve read any of these and like to comment below, I’ll let you skip the book report.)
- Interrupted, by Jen Hatmaker
- Life on the Vine, by Phil Kenneson
- Slow Church, by Chris Smith and John Pattison
- The Book of John, by John, Jesus, and of course, the Holy Spirit. :)
- 1 Corinthians 9:9-27