There's been a common theme lately, a constant word and phrase hovering above my conversations. Sometimes the word is said loud and clear, other times it's merely a head nod or look; a shared, quiet language that says, "You’re feeing that way too?"
We want to commit less.
We want to say no more.
We want to make room for God to shake things up and open our eyes to the people we've been planted beside.
We want to lighten our loads and not feel an ounce of guilt for it.
I think that's the tug of war here, the constant fight in our hearts. Can I grant myself permission to say no even when someone or something wants me to say yes?
And I think there is power in listening to that fight within, the roar or grumble beneath. There is power in recognizing our own limits and boundaries and choosing to honor and celebrate them, rather than apologize for it.
We won't be it all dear one. We just can't. We won’t be the best wife or mother or friend or coworker, all the time.
We won’t always have the right words to say. I have to say this one on repeat.
And reminding ourselves of this, gently, is a good thing.
How freeing is it to let go perfection? To put our measuring stick away and trust that someone else's successes means good things could be coming our way too.
It just might not be today.
Today, your more might mean being faithful in the little.
It might be simple and quiet. It might be without any glamour or shine. But it’ll be good; it’ll be full of purpose and meaning.
And it's so hard to wait. It's so hard to unclench our fists and surrender control. I struggle with this one daily because we live in a world of more. We live in a time of excel, achieve, build your platform, work over time, wake up early.
Walk really fast.
And sometimes these things are good. There is a season for early mornings and late nights. There is a season to be challenged and stretched to new limits. It's energizing and empowering to dream big and wide, to constantly be looking for ways to be better, to love more fully, to extend more grace, to open our home.
But I think a really important question to ask is this: am I using "busy" as a crutch?
Do I surrender, bow down, lift up my hands to "busy"?
Put plainly, do I measure my own worth by how full my calendar is? Have I let "busy" become an idol?
If I am being honest dear one, if I really let you in to the deepest, insecure parts of my heart, I’d say yes, I do those things because busy is comfortable.
It's all I've known and seen.
It's more comfortable to fill every square inch with something, anything, rather than sit alone at a coffee shop with a journal and phone turned off.
But busy comes at a cost, right?
When we say yes - always, when we open our door - always, when we commit and volunteer and raise our hand first - always, we fail to give our body, mind, and spirit permission to practice mindfulness and intention.
And I know those words get tossed around a lot. They sound pretty and sweet but what do they even mean?
To me, they mean savoring the cup of coffee in my hands, feeling the warmth from the mug press into my palms, the softness of the rim as I take a slow, steady sip.
It means looking at another person, really looking at them, and honoring the space you are in - a coffee shop, waiting room, or grocery store checkout line and recognizing that this moment is big, it's huge, it isn't small and insignificant.
It means listening with all that I am so you know you’re story, all the bits and pieces matter. That it’s a story worth sharing.
It means doing less to leave room for creativity. The best ideas need space to breath and foster. They need long walks and evenings at home making soup and stories around a campfire.
I don't want to miss what could happen because I'm too busy planning what should.
What about you friend? Are you in a season of busy? How are you finding ways to practice intention and being present?