Less is More.

There is something deep in my heart that always wants more. A lot of times, the things I want more of are good—more fun, more time, more work done, more coffee . . ..  And yet, this desire for more only makes me pack more things into the day and only makes me anxious and enjoy each thing less. As I crave more and more, I miss all of the things in front of me.  The beauty in those tiny hands as I wash them, the joy in a snuggle, the feeling of the breeze.  Most days these things pass me by without me noticing them at all.  I’m too wrapped up in my productivity, in my lists, in my clean house and the delicious food I’m putting on the table.  I’m so engrossed in “all the things” that I miss the ones that actually matter.  This is not as it should be.  

It’s interesting that when we think of “less is more”, we mostly think of possessions.  And while I don’t disagree with the premise that less is more when it comes to possessions, this really isn’t what I’m talking about.  I struggle more with trying to cram as much as I can into a day.  I want every moment to be spent efficiently so that we can squeeze absolultely everything possible out of each minute.  I want to have the kids do all of their schoolwork, read a book for fun, do piano, play and laugh, eat 3 healthy meals, play outside, create some amazing piece of art work, clean up after themselves, be clean and look beautiful, all in the 14 hours that they are awake.  The list could go on and on.  And yet, the more I try to cram into the day, the less any of us are able to enjoy it.   

I see this on vacations as well, I want to make sure we get every possible minute we can at the beach, that we play mini golf, swim in the pool, and go to that special ice cream place.  I’m so worried that we maximize our time and all of the moments that I’m frustrated when things don’t go according to plan– when someone is slow finding their swimsuit, or the baby has a blow out, or people are just excited and being goofy and not getting ready efficiently. As I become more and more agitated that we are “wasting time”  everyone starts to become stressed.  So now, we’re irritated with one another while we go do all of our fun things and we are rushing from one thing to another all just so we won’t miss out on any of it.  What in the world?  Why do I do this?  Am I the only one?

I hear that voice, even now, as my heart starts to beat faster reliving so many of these moments in my life.  That voice, it says, slow down, be still, the world will keep turning (Psalm 46:10). It was turning before you were here and it will continue, long after you are gone.  There is so much to see and do and experience, but the good stuff is right here, it’s right in front of you.  It’s not that special ice cream or the extra 20 minutes at the pool, it’s in the eyes of that excited 3-year-old who cannot contain his glee at the idea that we will soon be swimming.  It’s in the giggle that baby gives you as you tickle those chunky thighs while cleaning up that blow out.  It’s in the eyes of an 8-year-old boy who just hit a homerun, in the backyard of course. The joy is not in cramming in every extra activity and making every minute of the day efficient and used for maximum productivity—it’s in the calm, it’s in the in-between moments, it’s in the every day in and out, the smile and the soft word.  It’s in the giggles and the “I’m sorrys.”  It’s on that picnic blanket just laying in the sun, snuggling and reading a story.  It’s in a moment by a bonfire as a family.  

This verse has hit my heart especially hard as I wrestle and deal with my deep need to keep moving, to be productive, to be efficient and cram as much into a day as possible.  In Ecclesiastes, it says 

“. . . I kept my heart from no pleasure, for my heart found pleasure in all my toil, and this was my reward for all my toil.  Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil that I had expended in doing it, and behold, all was vanity and a striving after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun.”  Ecclesiastes 2:10-11

I don’t want to strive after the wind. I don’t want to strive after things that ultimately don’t matter, that don’t bring joy, or goodness, or salvation. I want to slow down, to take a breath, to lie in the sun, take a walk, color with a 6-year-old. I want to take in the good stuff, to relish it, experience the joy that is in those everyday moments.

Each week our family takes a sabbath. One day to rest, spend the day together, and shift our focus. This day is a reminder to me that no matter how much I strive, how much I toil, how productive I am, that it is God who keeps the world turning and that He doesn’t actually need me to make it happen. He will take care of me and will sustain me, even if I stop striving and working for a day. In fact, it is during that time that I see Him more clearly. Last week during our sabbath, as I washed grime off the littlest one’s hands, I noticed those tiny hands. The beauty in them. It was like I was looking at them for the first time. How many times I’ve washed those hands and not noticed, too busy to really see them. Sabbath gives me this space, it forces me to slow down and taste the joy that is indeed already before me. I hope to continue to find other ways to slow down, take a breath, experience the little joys in everyday life. But for now, sabbath is a start.