“How have you been recently?”
“Oh not bad, I’m taking a few classes, working two jobs, volunteering at church, and on the side I’m writing a novel. Hardly sleep, and practically live on coffee, but it’s great. How about you?”
“Me? Just work I guess.”
“That must be nice – thinks: slacker.”
Ever had that conversation? I have, and I’ve variously found myself playing both roles over the years.
It’s an interesting phenomenon really, and you can see it played out on a smaller scale every Monday at work and every Sunday in church lobbies. People who haven’t seen each other in a few days or weeks meet, and the talk quickly becomes a recounting of how terribly busy we all are.
The sad thing is, we’re proud of it.
And not very secretly proud either.
Oh sure, we complain about how we haven’t had a real day off in weeks, or how much work it all is, but somehow all our complaining sounds rather like bragging.
It’s simply backhanded bragging, like complaining that you didn’t expect learning Spanish to be so much work after you got such high scores in French, German, and 5th century Latin.
We’ve bought into the gospel of busyness. We’ve accepted the story we are constantly told – that our value rests in what we can produce, that we are loved for what we can accomplish.
So we push ourselves harder and harder. We sleep less, we work more, and we accomplish a great deal.
But in the process we begin to forget how to sit,
and think,
and breath,
and pray,
and read for pleasure,
and have a real conversation with a friend, or family member, or spouse.
and savor a drink for its flavors and complexities, not its ability to chemically induce either wakefulness or sleep.
Here’s the dirty little secret of the gospel of busyness. It promises us a full and satisfying life but, in the end, it makes our lives emptier.
It uses us for what we can contribute, and in the process we live less, feel less, even love less.
But your value is not determined by what you produce. Your loveliness is not based on what you accomplish.
And the sooner we all realize that the sooner we can stop playing the game of bragging that we’re so very busy.
Even God thought balancing work with rest was worthwhile – perhaps we should give it a try.
{ 18 comments… read them below or add one }
In college, a couple of us noted this little game of busyness “martyrdom” where the one with the worst class load “won”. It got to the point that when the game came to its conclusion, we would just say, “Sucks to be you.” I decided then that I was going to enjoy college instead of complaining about it.
“Here’s the dirty little secret of the gospel of busyness. It promises us a full and satisfying life but, in the end, it makes our lives emptier.”
It has taken me 35 years to really get this. I hope it doesn’t take so long to break all my bad busyness habits, though seeing what it does to my family when I drag them all over creation because I had to say yes to one more thing has certainly helped.
Well this post is directed at me as much as anyone – so I’m certainly still learning it. It’s hard to slow down, especially for people like myself who easily slip into the trap of judging each day by my productivity.
There is such truth in this. It’s especially prevalent in the clergy circle I find. While talking with my friends they constantly tell me how busy they are and at times it feels like a contest to see who can fit the most in their day. I wonder when we, as spiritual leaders in the church are supposed to get our own prayer and meditation time when life is this crazy. Since I’ve been home with my son I have noticed my peace has returned and I have more time for God. Life has a better focus and I know when i return to work I will have to be very conscious of the temptation to slide into busy work to make it ‘look’ like I am doing what needs to be done.
AMEN and AMEN! Yet those of us who strive to live this way and share this idea are frequently perceived as non-productive and lazy. I’m a stay at home wife/mother. My kids are 21 and 18, still living at home as they go to school. I write, I read, I crochet, I bead, I clean (a little–lol!), I cook, I grocery shop, I study the Word — and yet some days I feel like I have nothing worthwhile to show for my time. Thanks for the encouragement!
Not too long ago, my life was a whirlwind of activity. I look back on that time and wonder how I survived. When my grandmother died 4 years ago, my grief forced me to scale back. Since then I’ve tried to be more intentional about how I spend my time, allowing myself to rest and be but also choose the activities and people I really want to spend time with. It’s weird though, that even with such intentionality, I still feel at times like I’m missing out on something or that I’m not busy “enough.” Then, I just shrug my shoulders and return to my book.
Hah! {this is me liking your comment very much, especially the last sentence.
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Amen!!
My husband was telling me about a book he had read, which described various generational drives for work. Our grandparents worked because it showed a good work ethic & integrity. Your identity was surrounded with how hard you worked. Our parents (baby boomers) worked to gain wealth. Their work identity was in how much money they acquired. Generation X (and probably some Generation Y) work to acquire time. We are not motivated by more money or the allure of being seen as a work horse, but if we will have a quality of life in time given to us.
I find truth in that as I look at the scope of generations. What I also find interesting is how much of me taking a Sabbath is trusting that the other six days will take care of themselves, or that God will take care of it. A great theologian on these ideas & what you wrote about is R. Paul Stevens. He’s a spiritual theologian & writes & talks about a holistic view of living in the other six days.
thank you for your words too.
Can you talk a little more about what that value of time means?
I get jealous of my husband when I see him playing computer games in the time he’s not at work. I feel like his lack of participation leaves extra housework for me to pick up. But I know that even if he weren’t present, I’d be constantly busy, still wishing I had just a few minutes to rest, read, or go for a walk. I let half of the things I should be doing slide because there isn’t enough time, and I won’t let anything else slide so that I can relax and enjoy having a life. I feel guilt for the time that I have.
My husband and I have been very intentional about being less busy this summer. It has taken a couple steps of faith and a few risks with our jobs, but we are seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. By Sept.1 we should both be down to only 1 job a piece. For the first time in 7 years, we are thinking about being able to eat together as a family and spend time together. And I am ecstatic about these things. It seems so silly to be excited about dinner together and quality time. Don’t we all know how important those are? If we do, then how is it that we aren’t doing those things?
“We’ve bought into the gospel of busyness. We’ve accepted the story we are constantly told – that our value rests in what we can produce, that we are loved for what we can accomplish.”
Thank you for this post! This reinforces exactly what we have been doing. God really does want us to breathe, read, and talk to each other.
very convicting. thank you for posting about this in such an honest and straightforward way.
Couldn’t agree more. I recently changed my schedule at work from 5 days to 4 days, and have been wrestling with guilt about it. Is it ok for me to only work 4 days a week? Look at all those hardworking people who are working on Friday while I sleep in. That’s not fair. But in truth what is not fair is that people have to work a minimum of 40 hours a week just to pay their bills. I am settling into a deeper appreciation that I God has put me into a place where I can afford to only work 4 days a week and that I have a boss who is flexible enough to allow me to.
You know, it’s funny: Even though I try so hard to keep my life simple and purposeful, I still fall into the trap of becoming busy. I’m a “yes” person trying desperately to be a “no” person, and in the meantime, in conversations with my friends, I find myself lamenting on how busy I am… just to fit in! Everyone else is talking about stress; shouldn’t I? Thanks for the reminder that rest is a blessing, one we were created to enjoy.
This past January I did a sermon on how the Sabbath is part of the whole creative cycle. When we don’t take time to breath and rest, we’re not showing the full picture of the gospel.
I like this sentence the best: “We’ve accepted the story we are constantly told – that our value rests in what we can produce, that we are loved for what we can accomplish.”
Thank you for sharing this, Mason. I needed it.
Yep, I lived that life for years… and thank God He got me off. It WAS all about performance, work harder, strive more, be better, do more…. It was an earning mentality to manage my sin and help me be righteous, godly, loved. It’s the gerbil wheel of performance. It wore me out, completely. I love the fact that in this “be still and know I am God”…. all that ceases. I get off the gerbil wheel to live in the finished reality of all that Jesus gave to me when He walked out of the tomb. I am loved, completely as I am. He has pronounced me godly, holy, pure, righteous even on my worst day. I am invited to step into what is already true about me. I don’t have to manage my sin anymore. He managed it for me. He invites me to be, just be who He made me to be. Out of that place He invites me to step into those destinies that He has prepared for me. It’s quite the place to be….
I love this post because I always refer to the word “busy” as one of those foul four-letter words. The word “busy” brings a sadness to me, yet I still use it from time to time. I’m working hard to break the cycle of my “busy” life. And the answer is simply… do less and rest. Thank you for such a great post. p.s. my son’s name is Mason