“How do we stop living like life is an emergency. Something to be sped wildly through.”- AnnVoskamp-
I am thankful for the sound of the ocean crash on the sand.
Yesterday I did something I normally don’t do.
I took a day off. (insert dum, dum, dum, soundtrack here)
A mid-week day, mind you.
It was 80 degrees out and the road was calling. So I hopped in the car and did a spontaneous trip to Santa Cruz and Capitola with my husband.
Now before you get all shocked and disapproving and assume I’ve turned into a hippie who works part-time and surfs the rest—hear me out.
Life goes at a maddening pace. We work late into the night. And for some of us, we do this giving our lives away for others—out in the war zones, mission fields, and in service to seek and save and restore those who are broken and lost.
Sometimes, we are the ones who work hardest of all because we have a really good reason for what we’re fighting for. And some of us just want to make the benjamin’s baby, and that’s cool too.
But either way, sometimes we’re the ones who get lost.
But what I’ve been wondering about lately, is—-
What is really underneath all this busyness?
Are we trying to prove to the world how wonderful we are, how much value we have, that if only they could see how hard we work, they would know what a superstar we are.
That they would give us their approval?
Do you ever hear people talk about how busy they are doing “good things,” “ministry things” and they list off all the things they are “doing” as if it was some sort of self-pat-on-the-back. A resume of their many accolades.
My husband calls it the humble brag.
It’s really just annoying. I know, because I totally used to be one of those people.
What is funny about this whole scenario is that my husband I slide happily into the workaholic slot on a more common daily basis than most.
But lately I’ve been wanting more. Wanting to slow this life down to a present moment of digging my toes in the warm sand, or feeling the cool Marine breeze spatter my face with ocean sprinkles.
Stopping to be thankful and filled with joy.
And figuring out what are those things that fill me with joy anyway?
Remembering God and that He wants to enjoy me. Enjoy. Me.
And there is no substitute for that.
So I lied on the beach. I attempted to do work to soothe my guilty conscience but ended up managing to do just journaling, rolling over, getting sunburned, playing disc golf, and eating a lot of Mexican.
And I decided to be ok with that.
Sometimes, I think without me, this whole thing I’ve built, would crumble in upon itself like a volcanic mountain.
Leaving a bunch of lava in its wake.
I make myself bigger than I really am.
And I make fun of hippies who surf all day (don’t we all) and judge them, meanwhile secretly envying their life.
When really, this is the life I’ve chosen for myself.
And I’m the only one who can change it.
I took a piece of that sunlight from yesterday and dragged it into today, and tomorrow I’m going to try and find another moment to get lost in that will drive me to be present.
Present, where God lives. And trusting. Trusting him to pick up where we leave off.
What do you do to get present?
(And if you have no idea what I’m talking about…this is a great video from Ann Voskamp: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JvHK2qe1LWU)
