catching up and slowing down.

I promise you that my recent absence has not been because I ran out of things to say — I just ran out of time to say them.

it’s 5:37 on a tuesday evening — we have friends coming over for dinner in an hour. daniel keeps begging me to sit down and just rest for a minute. I’m not opposed to resting, I’m just too busy to do it consistently. we all know this is a recipe for disaster. daniel knows, too, which is why he’s trying so hard to get me to sit down.

in fact, he heard me typing on my computer and got up to make sure I wasn’t working again.

the last month was a whirlwind, and to be frank, awful in some ways. daniel handled it really well. I on the other hand, really struggled. that’s a story for another time and hopefully I’ll get to sharing it. but this is our first week back in the groove. It was supposed to be our last week of summer but it has turned into the first week of the fall, with all of the stress, preparations, and moving parts that come with working in higher education. (you would think we would know better.)

we’ve been married for three months, and we’re a couple weeks away from knowing each other for two full years. it sounds kind of strange when you say it that way — this man I wake up to each day is someone I’ve only known for seven hundred days or so. it’s not that much in the grand scheme of things. anyways, I know you’re not here for the existential blah blah blah.

to recap july, we visited both of our families in two different states, totaled our old prius, bought a new prius, daniel got a job and a certification (you can see his face here) and I cried a lot. obviously I left a lot out, but that’s kind of the summary.

we had a lot of hard conversations in these last few weeks: about deference and headship and submission (gulp,) about growth and emotion and showing weakness, about pressing into each other, slowing down, and actually enjoying our experiences instead of just rushing through them.

I just finished Brett McCracken’s The Wisdom Pyramid. One of the biggest things I took away from it (alongside my read of John Mark’s work on a similar topic, which I have previously written about,) is that I have a lot to gain from slowing down.

I know that my life will be richer this way — if I slow down, take a deep breath, take myself less seriously and regard God for who he truly is. I will reap richly from sowing this way. And as simple as that is to write, it is so hard to practice.

It feels easy to get roped into everyone else’s frenzy — to care too much about staying on top, or always being justified and never wrong, or appearing as if I always have it together forty-eight hours before I need to. that’s unnecessary.

And yet, somehow I feel lazy if I can’t prove my value by pumping out three publication-worthy articles a week, reading four books, listening to two podcasts, spending four hours in prayer and baking bread for my household every week.

this should not be so.

there is clearly a disconnect here. It’s a good day if I recognize it, but a rare day that I actually address it and seek to live against these things. Often, I just tip my hat and keep on trucking.

I am aware that august might end up being a catch-all for my thoughts and that I will race right through it without processing any of them. this is not a good idea, I am aware. But even now, It’s hard to even sit still without being overwhelmed with swirling thoughts of to-do’s. Just today, I ran errands for work and ran paperwork to two other offices for my classes and scheduled at least seven meetings, read five chapters of a book, wrote ten welcome notes, texted four residents, put out three fires and ordered seven different kinds of catering for our trainings next week, complete with the fruit platter and gluten free options.

here’s the thing: I know that’s not special. I know that God has given me the capacity to work, and not just to work — but to cultivate: to improve, to develop, to make things and systems and people better, stronger, more efficient.

but not just for those ends. efficiency isn’t an end to itself. I know this better than anyone — efficiency leads to burnout which leads to exhaustion and bitterness that has significant spiritual implications (not to mention the physical and emotional consequences involved.)

we work to be excellent to represent the Lord’s character, not because we’re trying to out-do God. the work of a believer should end in rest every day, an opening of our hands and a surrendering of our cares to a God who does not sleep and cares specifically for us.

McCracken says that sleep is practice for death, a reminder of our fragility.

I will not last forever — my work won’t either. some spry overachiever is going to spring up and outdo me here pretty soon, and then I won’t have much to show for my efforts. that’s okay. ecclesiastes says that nothing is new under the sun.

and God himself rested, so, that should tell me something.