“I was just about to text you to see if you are okay.”
I’ve been hearing a variation of this for a while due to my delayed responses to messages. And I hate that.
But I’m in a season of life that makes it difficult to be as available as I would like to be. Given our upcoming move, work and my caregiving situation, I find myself staring at long to-do lists and feeling like I’m barely making a dent in them each day.
Even so, I keep reminding myself that efficiency is a poor measuring stick for some of the more important aspects of life.
Friendship can’t be measured in tasks completed. Neither can prayer. Nor can sitting across a table from someone who needs to talk. The moments that nourish us most often don’t result in a completed task or a visible accomplishment. But they do strengthen our connection to God and one another.
That’s why I can get frustrated when productivity demands of life press in on me.
Throw in the fact that I like to see a completed to-do list each day, and I’m a tracker. I track my number of steps, minutes read, hours worked, and other metrics. These things help keep me on pace. But they can also feel like a tyrant at times.
The problem with tracking is that it trains us to value what can be measured.
A completed project can be measured. So can an empty inbox. A finished workout. A crossed-off task.
But some of the best parts of life were never meant to be evaluated that way. Time with a spouse, friendship and prayer don’t become meaningful because we can point to a result; they are meaningful because they deepen relationships with God and one another.
The story of Jairus reminds me that Jesus didn’t measure his days against a to-do list. On the way to one urgent need, He stopped for another.
The challenge, of course, is that I’m not Jesus. I don’t have infinite time, perfect wisdom or the ability to be fully present everywhere at once. More often, the things competing for our attention all matter. Life would be simpler if the choice were always between good things and bad things.
That’s what makes seasons like this difficult.
Investing in my new marriage matters. Caring for family matters. Work matters. Preparing for a move matters. Friendships matter. Responding to people matters.
Saying yes to one often means saying no, at least temporarily, to another.
The tension I feel isn’t really between productivity and connection. It’s between all the good things I wish I had time for and the limits that remind me I can’t do them all.
There will be seasons for lingering conversations over coffee. Seasons when messages are answered immediately. Seasons when the pace slows and the to-do list shrinks.
This simply isn’t one of those seasons.
For now, faithfulness looks less like doing everything I wish I had time for and more like being fully present for the responsibilities of this season.
And maybe that’s enough.
