I lay on the tufts of fresh grass, wind caressing my face, wind chimes playing their gentle tune. The sun warms my toes and thoughts wash to and fro on the sea of my invisible mind. One stray idea, plucked from the waves and held carefully, like a delicate ball of hand-blown glass. I turn it around in my mind’s eye, appraising its value.
When did I get so busy?
Too busy to sit and enjoy the grass between my toes, too tired to double-bounce my boys on the trampoline, too thoughtless to even sweep the floor.
What have I been doing?
Many good things. I have been doing many good things.
But have I done the good things to the exclusion of the best things? To spend time learning at the feet of my Lord, to worship him as the woman who spent her most precious perfume on him. What is my most precious commodity?
My time.
When did we decide that it’s more important to sweep the floor than to kneel on it?
When did we decide that it’s better to sign our kids up for all.the.things rather than to prepare their souls for eternity?
In our fear of missing out, have we missed out on the greatest good?
The sun warms my legs too much, and I need to move. It happens slowly, like that frog boiling to death in a pot of gradually heated water. Those good things, I took them on one at a time, and they seemed right at the time. I slowly come to a boil in the busyness stew of my own making, never noticing what is becoming of me.
But how do I decide which are the good things and which are the best things? Particularly for my children, who will probably end up in therapy if I don’t give them all the opportunities they need.
Is it better for them to learn how to swim in this land-locked place in the world, or to learn to use their imaginations? Is it better for them to play on a soccer team or to make their own fun, as brothers? Where do I draw the line in the sand between the good things and the best things? I don’t want them to grow up like that frog in the pot, slowly stewing to death in busyness.
Is it better for me to listen to podcasts or to be quiet? I once spent 3 months listening to nothing but the four gospels through my Bible app, and I began to know Jesus like never before. The noise around me became a whisper next to the persistent call of my Saviour. Is it better to endlessly scroll through Instagram or to invite a friend over for lemonade? Is it better for me to clean faster, more efficiently so I can do the next thing, or to slow down and use my cleaning as contemplative worship?
We all must decide these things for ourselves, but we must decide. If we don’t choose, the choice will be made for us, and the instinctive choice will be the good things, not the best things.
What are the best things? Spending time with our Lord. Being together as family. Reading wholesome words. Playing Uno. Studying the Bible. My best things are similar, but not the exact same as your best things.
Faith.
Community.
Love.
Unfortunately, the best things tend to get pushed aside because of the tyranny of the good things, the things I thought were urgent, like making sure my kids can swim and read and talk.
The chimes, quietly tinkling in the breeze, each tuned to the other. It makes me think of heaven. I wish I could hold onto this moment with all its tranquility, but there is a shadow above me. A small child who needs his mother.
I gently put down the iridescent ball of colors, but the memory of the thought lingers.
I should do this more often.
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