The Hurried Life

I am beginning to realize that the frenzied pace with which I seem to run my life is perhaps the antithesis to truly following Jesus. The problem is I don't seem to know how to stop. Sure, I get the whole just-drop-a-bunch-of-stuff from the calendar speech that my husband vomits out at me when I'm whining about having to take Kindness and Goodness to one more activity. But the truth is, I want them to know that they have gifts. Gifts given by God. For Him to use in serving His other children. I want them to know that I am committed to helping God grow these gifts in them. . .then sending them out to use them for His glory. It just seems in our whole post-modern (whatever that really is), suburbia, very-removed-from-the-truly-needy life that I spend my days running from activity to activity without truly engaging anyone other than my little party of seven (okay, we're not so little). Even a surface perusal of scripture reminds me that Jesus is heading straight to those in need--the hurting, hungry, poor and imprisoned. My life seems to be heading straight to the gymnastics, ballet, soccer lessons or what-have-you. No clear answer . . . but this is on my mind. . .

The Desert Fathers and really saints down through history would tell me to practice the spiritual disciples. Not to earn favor with God, heaven forbid (which it did). It is grace alone. But those disciplines help me extend a bit of effort to do that which I could not otherwise do. Follow Jesus. Hear His voice. Love God wholeheartedly.

The most often repeated (at least in the books that have crossed by path) seems to be solitude and silence.

I have a house full of kiddos--two still in diapers. Any suggestions on this one?. . . to be continued