As a believer we need to realize that “time” is not a renewable resource or a replaceable asset. It cannot be bought, rolled over, transferred, or cashed in. It can only be stewarded or wasted. And by “wasted,” I don’t mean being lazy. I mean the opposite: wasting time by being busy and over scheduled. When we treat time the same way we treat the earth – something to exploit, use, and squeeze every last drop of life from – that’s truly wasting time.
Time is sacred. It’s not something in a petri dish or beaker to be measured and broken apart. We are not in control. Time is something to be submitted to. A table to sit at. Where every moment is holy and beautiful and special.
I have been recently been relearning to carve up my time wisely. God first, me second, family third, close relationships fourth, community involvement fifth, and then ministry (and I am carefully selecting which invites to say yes to and which I say no to). And, I make sure that there is always margin (see first two blogs in this series) to be able to listen to God’s voice so I don’t miss moments He puts in front of me to interact with my neighbours or people at coffee shops.
After that, the clock hits zero. The asset called time is drained. The biggest change in me after embracing this formation is that now I’m simply willing to admit that my time is limited. I hold no illusions. I cannot do everything asked of me or everything I’m able to or want to do. In fact, isn’t it weird we think that at all? Recognizing that limit, in my opinion, is the first step to what feels like a superpower – much more meaning-focused spiritual work, and much more anchored and loving presence of being.
It’s not about being selfish or weird or introverted. It’s about creating a life centered around priorities we care about most, making sure they don’t fall by the wayside. There simply isn’t time for everything. I personally don’t feel restrained by that. I once did. I now come alive because this realization gives me permission to be all in with me (personal time and space), my family, Jesus, close friends, my Church, and my neighbours and community.
So if you want me to hop on a phone call or listen to your new idea, you’ll have to tell me which person or thing on my priority list you’re more important than, and then maybe we can talk. And that not even me trying to be mean. I now view my day as a jar of rocks already full. Rocks represent those things that are important to me. So for your rock to fit in, one must come out.
It’s okay to believe we have a finite amount of time. It’s okay to believe we cannot add anything else to our schedules. We reveal ourselves with our asks – and how we respond to others’ asks. Thinking we have all the time in the world is costing us something. Our sanity. Our family. Our health. Our joy. If you don’t have enough time to do nothing, then you don’t have enough time. (Reread that last sentence – it’s important).
We aren’t God. And so we should stop acting like we are. Being human means embracing the limits, not trying to cheat them.
Not many of us recognize – and rarely do we wrestle with – how much we actually love chaos and franticness and busyness. We don’t admit that it does something to our soul and we enjoy it. It gives us purpose and meaning. We feel needed. We feel important.
And, most of all, we implicitly believe the lie that we need to take care of ourselves, because God just might forget about us. But I believe God takes care of His people – even more when they are honouring Him and trusting His design and Spirit. And He’s been doing this since the beginning of the story.
More next time…