If only I could make myself believe that some days.

But we’re always onto the next thing, aren’t we? The next project, the next purchase, the next to do on the list? I’m guilty of this daily, and it’s this pace I sometimes keep that challenges exactly all of the things I was talking about here yesterday. “Make it stop!!” I keep thinking. I just have to work on the right place to begin.

Because I think I’m often so focused on the “what’s next?” that I miss the here and now. And all I really have for sure this side of Heaven is precisely this–the here and now. I’m not saying there’s no need to prepare for the future. I’m not saying it at all. But what I am saying is that I can get so caught up in what if’s and plans and possibilities and worries and commitments and self-imposed obligations that I miss the boat. Oh, you can bet I do!

I am only as focused as the very next thing sometimes, and I’m growing more programmed all the time to default to this. With everything at the touch of a button and the world at my fingertips through a tiny little box we foolishly just call a phone…

But it’s not just that. It’s emails and Facebook and twitter and ads. Sales! And For a Limited Time Onlys! And reminders flying left and right. When my two year old hears a real phone ringing in a restaurant and asks, “What’s that sound, Mommy?” I can’t help but think maybe we’re getting this all wrong sometimes. There was value in the phone that stayed on the wall and only got answered when we were home. There was value in the (maybe) weekly trip to the store for what the household needed–no more, no less. Nothing was really instant or immediate, and everyone survived. The clutter was a bit less like constant static.

And I know that I’m feeling this sense of encroachment on my mental, physical, emotional, spiritual space because I’ve allowed it all in. What’s more, it has begun to feel normal. If we can’t get it, know it, find out about it, or share it in sixty seconds or less these days, the medium feels slow. What. Has. Happened?

So I’m saying I’m making an effort to, slowly but surely, reduce this reality in my life. I so desperately want there to be more room in my days for quiet. For thinking. For deep relationship and genuine interaction, face to face. I have these things, yes–and I’m blessed by them. But I need more of them and less of the rushing, hurrying, scurrying, clamoring, striving, racing, crazy that life is becoming. I don’t want my children to know this pace of life as the norm. I truly don’t.

We’ve already turned off our T.V. A long time ago, really. It was a good step, and I don’t miss it at all. Just another portal into a world that eats up the world I’m trying to create here in this little blue house, and we don’t need it. So what’s next? Maybe more limited phone (browsing) time for yours truly, or a step away from FB again (forever, someday?), or a commitment to an entire hour of quiet somehow, daily?

Something. Because it’s all happening, and it’s true that a big part of me hates it. What’s more, I love and value so many of the things that busyness has replaced (writing letters, spending a whole day in the kitchen, drafting poetry, learning a new skill, swinging on a porch, really pressing in and not just praying, but truly listening for God–then giving Him room and time to speak). The only thing I really need to hurry about is the pace at which I pursue slowing down. I’m feeling really convicted and convinced of that.

As it turns out, this season of pregnancy is becoming more and more about self-reflection and introspection as I prepare my heart for what’s next. It seems I remember my last pregnancy doing something similar. It really is a beautiful phase of life for so many reasons. Eleven weeks (or so) left to savor and glean.

here. goes.

mm

image credit to Ann Voskamp. love her.