In Our Busyness, a Foundation

It was in Mr. Winterrowd’s 5th-grade class at Vachel Lindsay Elementary School. There were four in our group. We were assigned a class presentation on Virginia . . . or maybe Maryland (this was a few years ago). I had taken the lead in the group and doled out the responsibilities — one would take the land forms, one the population, one the manufacturing and businesses. Eileen, who was not a very good student, could just help with the visual presentation. Our presentation went smoothly. My portion was concluding, and it was bold and confident. Surely I would get an “A.” Until Mr. W asked what Eileen did. “Oh, she helped with ideas and some of the drawings,” I offered, helpfully. There were no individual grades. Group grade: B.

This was my first object lesson on the subject of looking beyond myself. The objective of the group project was making sure that everyone contributed. My objective was making sure my work was worth an A. I missed the mark.

And I still miss the mark . . . pretty much daily. I still operate under the assumption that the more I do, the better my grade will be. After all, it takes time and energy to show someone else how to do it. And then it may not come out the way I want it to. We have to be neat, organized, efficient and on time. It’s the battle cry I hear all around me, “I’m so busy.” It’s become a badge of honor.

Where is the antidote to busy? Will we know when we get there? “Like a bush in the wastelands, we will not see prosperity when it comes,” says Jeremiah.

It would seem the answer to busyness is rest. My heart and my soul hear this, but my mind and body are the mother of three young children. Who has time for rest? Jim Noland recently said to me that God must have created Olivia, my 4-year-old daughter, on the 6th day because on the 7th day He rested. Anyone who knows Olivia can see the humor in this. But, as a confirmed busyness addict, it is a reminder that God sends particularly poignant antidotes. Sometimes they come in child-sized packages.

Olivia teaches me to rely on God, not myself. With her, the harder I try to control, distract or make her fit into my busy schedule, the harder it all gets. Tempers flare. When we have plenty of time between appointments, time just “to be” — to pretend I’m Dorothy and she’s Toto, to wave back at the trees waving hello, to celebrate the rainbows on the living room wall, to remind each other those rainbows are God smiling at us (her words), then all is peace. We are living in His rest. Are we busy? Very!

It’s hard for me to stop, to play, to meander. But slowly, I see it as God guiding the growth of the “tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream.” While I am busy trying to grow taller and broader, God wants me grow outward and underground. While I am still after a good grade, God isn’t giving grades; He is providing foundations.

“The tree by the water never fails to bear fruit, even in a year of drought,” Jeremiah assures us. Its roots are busy reaching for a drink from God’s stream.

I am resigned to being busy. But if I let Him, God will also help me to be fruitful.

— Wendy LeBolt