getting half done in twice the time

Austin and I have a home in Illinois now. A home with creaky floors, neighbors we only could have dreamed up, and no garbage disposal. A home that fits us, suits us and gives off a sweet aroma of limitless potential. This home housed memories of a family before, and is now the inviting space that will weave and link our lives together as the backdrop to our combined story. Moving, as it sounds, produces a life in constant motion. Purging of the old, replacing with the new, taking apart, putting back together, arranging, re-arranging, lists that get together and seem to reproduce more lists, and endless trips to the store, all in an effort to stop the moving and eventually graduate into ‘moved.’ Motion and speed look so shiny and inviting in their emptied promises of productivity, but I’m learning and re-learning that there’s no room for God in a tornadoed life of movement.

I’ve been diving deeper into what it looks like to live, breathe and operate in a ‘with God’ way. Thanks in large part to Brother Lawrence and the man I lovingly refer to as my ‘old man crush’, John Ortberg, I have been experimenting with just how many moments during my day I can spend in awareness and surrender to God. I’ve taken note of the what steals my attention, I have embraced the sights, sounds and people that bring God beautifully back to the forefront of my mind, and I’ve been broken over how easily I replace the well-spring of my life with empty, meaningless folly. Nevertheless, victory has come in small steps, often in the form of acknowledging the culprits of the ‘with God’ life.

So as I experiment, I will share the schemes and devious ways of these offenders. I will line them up along the wall, measure them against the grandness of our God and squash them by the power of the resurrection. So here’s culprit number one: hurry. I have recognized that unless I make some major changes in my life, busyness may not be practical to fight or give up. I love being busy because usually that means I see and talk to a variety of different people. I learn boatloads about myself, my world and my God from the people I daily interact with, and if busyness means learning, I’m planning on staying busy. Hurry, on the other hand is the vicious and untapped force behind my busy life. It robs me of the joy in between meetings and turns a gathering into nothing more than quick, rehearsed interactions. Lifeless and ordinary as opposed to what they could be: fulfilling and divine. Hurry would make the moment I’m living right now a disengaged deadline, but take a look with me at what can happen when thirty seconds of hurried life stops to notice in a ‘with God’ way…

There’s nothing like a big desk to spread out on. I swear the bigger the desk, the bigger my thoughts become. I adore my Aunt Cheryl for giving me these heavenly French chocolate bowls from Anthropologie. She seems to embody generosity. There’s so much I can learn from her. I’ve never noticed that when strawberries are this fresh, they burst in my mouth. How great is our God to give us these hues of spring. A tree that buds in violet? Wow. Good one, God.

How deeply I long for the with God life. Want to know the perfect day to practice the slowed, ‘with God’ life? Sunday. This past Sunday, Austin and I went to church early and then went to the gym together. After I had finished my workout, I stretched in the corner and marveled at how badly I’d taken advantage of the Sabbath. In my own pride, I often think I’m exempt from this important spiritual practice. So, on my yoga mat, I made a commitment that for the next five minutes I’d do everything I was already planning to do, but at half the speed. I gave hurry the finger (in a Christ-like way) and intentionally operated in slow motion. I’m not kidding, this is super uncomfortable at first. I walked by strangers and put weights away at an elderly speed and battled the thoughts that tried to convince me of the sheer annoyance I was putting off to all those around me. How inconsiderate of me to move at a speed that invites and recognizes God to be the true Lord of a moment. Nice try, culprit.

Peace. Perfect, uninterrupted peace followed. Peace to know that I was on a schedule that was not my own. Peace to take in. Peace to give out. Peace, precious peace.

So I’m embracing my rebel side like never before and vowing to get half done in twice the amount of time. I chuckle to myself thinking of that last sentence on the cover of a magazine at the grocery store. I’m taking this vow because in the heavenly realms (true reality) I know that I’ll be getting twice as much done for eternity while quietly removing myself from the buzz and lure of the temporary. I’ll gladly take last place in the race of this world if my speed towards heaven is steadily increasing with each passing breath. So with the burst of a strawberry and time to spare, I invite you to walk alongside me. There’s room for us all in the ‘with God’ life.