He loves to talk on the telephone. Sort of endlessly he’ll talk. So you slip out of the conference to say hello to him, all of them, before bedtime.
You know it’s hard. Those rushed calls with background noises on either end of the line that prevents you from catching anything but snatches of sentences and garbled words. You “uh-huh” and “Ohhhh” as best you can until the call passes the ten minute mark. Then you start to get a little impatient and stop replying with the same enthusiasm of a momma missing her babes and move into the tones of a rushed businessperson.
So by the time the kids are off and your husband finally has the line, you barely remember to ask him about that important meeting he had that morning and how he managed to hike to the farm with three preschoolers in varying stages of having colds.
You wrap up the conversation to hurry back inside only to sit in a room full of mostly strangers and your heart cracks a little that you didn’t spend longer on the telephone with the four people in the world who matter more to you than anyone else. Nearly instantaneously you miss those jumbled, beautiful, competing voices. Miss them hard.
It’s like rushed is your default now. Life is caught in snatches with background noises threatening to drown it out. Everywhere you go you catch yourself running in one direction only to miss the direction you came from.
Rushed has to stop being default.
And you have to stop running to anything taking you away from your true love.
This weekend I went to a unique conference that is very precious to me because some of my dearest friends in all of the world are there. I’ll write about some insight I picked up along the way. But more than anything, what I received at this conference was a further confirmation that I’m needing to take some time for quiet. My call to step away, from all the things that so easily entangle me, for a season. A break from the leading and the speaking and any external commitments that don’t involve my four people or my job. Because in all the busyness of this year, I didn’t just lose an urgency to serve my family with a passion, but I also lost the urgency of seeking God so regularly as to be certain of what He would have me do in any given day.
So I called them back. And the next night I sat in the quiet of my room away from all the frenzy and talked as long as they wanted. And I’m calling God back for a longer conversation too.
That’s all you have to do. You call back. You make time. You stop rushing.
** As a part of my endeavor to rush less, say no, and set fresh boundaries, I’ve decided to spend the remaining leadership Tuesdays this year doing a study of The Best Yes: Making Wise Decisions in the Midst of Endless Demands. You’ll have a chance this week to win a copy if you’d like to join and gain some insight on finding room for your best yes.