Stop the ride, I’m ready to get off.
I once took a ride on a malfunctioning roller coaster. If you’ve ever been to Walt Disney World, you’re no doubt familiar with Space Mountain. Lots of twists, turns, and dips—all in the dark, so you can’t brace yourself for what’s coming.
I’m not a fan of roller coasters, but certain members of my family are, so I thought I could grit my teeth and endure the three-minute ride (yep, it’s only three minutes). As my stomach did flips and flashing lights assaulted my vision, I heard laughter and squeals of delight. Clearly, someone was having a good time. I was not.
I almost breathed a sigh of relief as our little shuttle pulled up to the station. But no, we didn’t stop. We went around again.
If Dante had lived in the twenty-first century, he might have imagined a level of hell where the wicked are punished on a never-ending roller coaster ride.
Do you ever feel like your life is a roller coaster of activities? Bouncing from one event to the next, each one over in a flash, you never fully appreciate each moment because you’re always anticipating the next one, always bracing yourself for what’s around the corner, always striving but never arriving.
Busyness has become a status symbol. The busier we are, the more important we appear. But the cycle of busyness is exhausting.
In his book, The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry, John Mark Comer points out that Jesus was rarely in a hurry:
He put on display an unhurried life, where space for God and love for people were the top priorities, and because he said yes to the Father and his kingdom, he constantly said no to countless other invitations. Then he turned around and said, “Follow me.”
I’ve been thinking about the things that put me on that never-ending roller coaster of busyness.
- Fear of missing out keeps me from turning down invitations when my better judgment tells me I should rest.
- Feeling responsible for everyone’s happiness keeps me always working to please. Always wondering if I’ve done enough.
- Frantically trying to live up to everyone else’s expectations keeps me writing my name on every sign-up list and feeling guilty when I don’t.
Look at the life of Jesus. Jesus cared about people. He felt compassion for the masses. He healed and preached and healed some more. I noticed something interesting when I was reading through Matthew 9:
And Jesus went throughout all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.” (Matt. 9:35-38 ESV)
Notice that Jesus doesn’t say, “The people are harassed and helpless. I have to work harder to reach them all.” Instead, he delegated. In the next chapter, we read how Jesus called twelve disciples and sent them out.
Jesus, the all-powerful one, could have single-handedly met everyone’s needs. So if Jesus delegated, doesn’t that show us we don’t have to shoulder every responsibility?
If Jesus took time to sleep and to get away to a quiet place to pray, can we forego rest and prayer and expect good results?
So why do we get on the roller coaster of activity in the first place? Here’s another insight—an unpleasant one I’ve been trying to avoid—could it be idolatry that keeps me in a constant state of busyness? Could it be that I value the approval of others above obedience to God?
These wise words from Ann Voskamp’s The Greatest Gift keep coming back to me:
You can see how it goes—how there at the altars the Baal worshipers danced for rain. They strove and they flailed and they kept focused on trying to get all the steps just right—that is how you ultimately know. You know you have an idol whenever you have to perform.
Obviously, we all have tasks and activities we can’t eliminate. We have to care for our families and pay the bills. Some seasons of life are just plain hectic. But we put undue pressure on ourselves when we strive to impress others, please others, or meet unreasonable standards of perfection.
So I’m reminding myself. I’m reminding you.
You don’t have to make everyone happy.
You don’t have to live up to everyone else’s expectations.
You don’t have to do it all.
You only have to do what God has called you, personally, to do. And the only way to discover your God-given daily assignments is to spend time with God. Quiet, unhurried time.
It’s time to get off the roller coaster.
First published at The Glorious Table: https://theglorioustable.com/2022/03/get-off-the-roller-coaster/
