"Busy" May Be a Condition...

...But it is not something that just happens to you. "Busy" is my attitude towards my time and activities; it tells me neither how many activities there are on my schedule nor of what quality they are. My time is (in reality) a constant. It doesn't feel like it very often, which puzzles me. Occasionally I feel like I have all the time in the world--am I even bored? And the rest of the time, I feel like there are more jobs to get done, more chores to finish, more demands to play games, more pee puddles to wipe up than there are minutes in my week. Of course, the minutes are the same. The length of the to-do list may be different, but the real difference is how I'm choosing to respond to it.

I'm trying to phase the word "busy" out of my vocabulary. If I really can't read a story to the kids because I really have to fold the laundry right now, fine. But I should say so and double my efforts to finish the chore so that I can be available for the wee ones. I'm finding that if (*confession*) I don't want to read the story to the kids, I tell myself and them it's because I'm busy.

Maybe I should be less busy and deal with what's really going on in my heart: that I just don't want to be selfless. Likewise, when I'm so busy that I don't make time to pray or read the Bible--then the example of Jesus making time to go off and pray speaks to me. Surely his to-do list was filled with more substantial things than mine, but he managed. I don't see him saying, "Let the little children come to me...later." He seems to calmly and thoughtfully turn his attention to one thing at a time. When I get busy, I get agitated and snippy. I don't see this in him. So I'm working on taking a page from Jesus here to thoughtfully and even thankfully (?) turn my attention to whatever needs to be at hand; whether it's the casserole that needs baked and delivered, the fingerpainting session, the small group lesson that needs planned...by tomorrow(!), or the socks that need put into the huge box of single socks.

Filing this under 2010 goal of managing my emotions. And since I've typed most of the last paragraph with my left hand while Noelle makes whining noises into my right hand...and I feel the words "Stop it, I'm busy" welling up in me instead of a river of life or something...I'd better go. Looks like this one needs to be the task at hand. Okay. Breathe...