On Time and Distraction

Urgent things pile up against the imaginary door in my mind. They disguise themselves as important in an attempt to fool me into letting them in.  If I crack the door just to humor them, they flood the creative dam I’ve constructed to protect my time.  Soon I find that I am wading in distraction, checking off a busy to-do-list, not the agenda of my heart.  My heart calls over the rushing waters of busyness, entreating me not to be swept up in the current.  

I want to do something every day worth writing in my journal.  A small act can have an enduring effect.  Reading a book to my boy when he looks lonely or bored.  Going for a walk with a daughter who needs a break from schoolwork.  Pausing as I rush from one task to the next because I hear in the tone of my teen’s voice that he wants to talk.

Put down what’s in your hand and look them in the eye, my soul tells me. But all the shoulds and musts are vying for my attention, telling me things won’t get done if I don’t do them.  Diversion tries to manipulate me, to steal from me. It grows strength and confronts me, argues that I don’t have enough time. If I will only focus my eyes on the path ahead, priorities float to the top and distractions evaporate. Truth sings out what I know in my heart: I have plenty of time. It’s wisdom I lack. I don’t need more time. I need to use my time more wisely.