Slow Down and Realize

We took a recent trip to St.Louis and stayed in a hotel for a couple of nights, which seems to be the most exciting part for our kids. Though Aaron and I groan over the cramped quarters, shared toilet and lack of privacy, the kids see the co-sleeping as a great adventure. In addition, they love watching their favorite shows on a large flat-screen TV--another item we don't have at home. 

Our three-year-old was glued to a PBS program when a commercial popped up. He immediately turned to me and said, "I don't like this show. Can you change it?" Because we don't own a TV and they've only ever watched Netflix or dvds, our kids couldn't grasp the concept of watching something you can't control. Corbin also didn't understand why his movie wasn't still on after we had come back from breakfast. The media was supposed to revolve around him.

Whether we jump on the carousel or not, our world is spinning fast, whirling with or without us. We have the option to put down the phone, pause the movie, TiVo our entertainment, stream our music, but it wouldn't surprise me if teleportation is mounting the horizon. Takes too long to get there? No problem; "Beam me up, Scotty." 

The last week or two I've been trying to create some more professional online space for myself. I've been blogging on blogspot for years and love it, but if I want to be noticed in a high-pitched world, I need to have a site unique and personal. 

The technical glitches and jargon tempted me to throw my computer out the backdoor and say, "Forget it! Give me a pen and notepad." I don't care about this junk anyway; I just want to create. 

What happened to the days when an author wasn't considered exceptional unless he or she was a recluse? Readers expected them to avoid the public eye; the mystery made them more intriguing and their work more desirable. Today you aren't even considered for publication unless you have thousands following you on social networking sites. Writers can spend more than half of their time just marketing (ahem, excuse me: tribe-building and branding). Authors no longer have time to do what they do best--write!

Anyway, the stress of it all wrapped me up in this restless angst; I growled at the kids, I neglected the house, and barely got dinner together. 

At one point during the chaos, my mom encouraged me to calm down, "You are letting all this stuff eat your lunch. You have no deadline; only self-imposed expectations." In other words, quit taking yourself so seriously; get some help. Relax. You aren't as important as you think you are...and neither is this list.

Last night, I was reading Yancey's book Prayer and I stumbled onto this little jewel: 

"When I sense that my activity means something and has worth, and so move faster and faster trying to accomplish more and more, at that moment I give in to pride and a feeling that all depends on me." (300)

What more can I say? I still have pages of work to complete, but I am trying to remember that at the end of the day, it doesn't matter how much I conquer. What matters is how well I loved my children (was I patient and fully present?). Did I take the time to listen to my husband, really listen? Did I encourage others? Serve them? To humbly submit to God? After all, I'm not Him. He's on the throne of this world and I'm his servant: not the other way around.

"God will give ear and humble them, he who is enthroned from of old, Selah, because they do not change and do not fear God." Psalm 55:19 (ESV)


(photo cred Felipe Santana)Unsplash