Be Not Do

I gird my world with task-lists. When every moment is accounted for, I know I’m being productive, and I’m protected from crippling uncertainty around what comes next, or why it should. I scurry; we scurry, like a lot of ants, ticking tasks off.

We launch at aspirations, thinking their little peaks will satisfy. We grow and harvest to feed bodies; patch shelters to hold back decay; medicate, wash, and moisturise. Everything in optimal working order, balanced on the peak of “just right.”

But Lord, we can’t keep up.

There’s dust on the floor and mould in the sink. Our goals recede. One failed harvest, one voracious bifurcating cell, and we slide down and under.

Lord, hold us afloat. Remind us we rely on you for all things. When our bodies fail, hold our souls up, away from despair.

For the world is broken.

The child cries, torn from its mother. The sick and despondent wither, the abused are crushed and alone.

We cannot fix it.

But you can, and did.

Fill us with love to share, your overflowing love that partakes in the divine nature and reflects the unbroken within the brokenness. Don’t let us be hopeless.

For you are not hopeless. You defeated death, and one day will wipe away every tear. Though we cannot understand how, help us believe.

Let us focus on you.

Not on our fixing. Or our tasks.

From our dead-end busyness, save us.

Lord, we don’t know where we’re going.

We wanted to be like the ant of Proverbs 6, preparing for winter. But what is winter? Will our journeys ram us into death, illness, or disaster? And when? We cannot know.

Lord, chart our course because we can’t see where the treacherous shoals lie. You alone control all contingencies. Help us be patient, as well as prepared.

Reveal our fixations. What one fixates on reveals a lot about their ultimate goals. Do our thoughts on stopping tasks immediately turn to what comfort to grasp next, what achievement to reach? Usually.

Me, me, me. Do, do, do. Help us realise our error and fixate instead on the ultimate doer – you. You, who sustains us through our doings. Then, though we appear to be still, are gleaning rest and conviction for the coming storms.

Let us peel back the girding to make space for just being, in You.

You can also read this article at The Unmooring, Issue 4