Of all the errands I have to run, going to Costco pregnant with five older kids in tow is probably at the bottom of my list. Most Costco patrons are ruthless cart pushers on a mission to efficiently grab their groceries (and a new knife block and cozy pajama pants and a thousand-pack of gummy vitamins) and check out. My kids, however, are here to mosey through the aisles, inadvertently darting in front of passing carts for samples. My two most-uttered phrases at Costco are “Look where you’re going!” at my well-meaning but oblivious children and “I’m so sorry” to generally unamused Costco shoppers.
My window to brave the aisles of Costco is often at an inopportunely busy time. During our most recent visit, all of the checkout lines were supremely long and, despite my instincts screaming “NO!” I decided to attempt the shorter self-checkout line with my band of “helpers.” On my turn, I found myself frazzled, feeling from the shoppers behind me the pressure to move quickly. I began losing my patience with my kids.
“Please stop leaning on the scale. I can’t check out.”
“Wait, the light has to turn green before we can scan another item.”
“We are not fighting over who gets the receipt.”
(I swear. My kids are amazing. But Costco makes them way too excited.)
I realized that by the time I had waited in the self-checkout line and finished with my items, I would have been leaving at the same time as I would have in the regular line anyway (but maybe my brain would have been a little less fried and my patience level a little higher.)
Still, actually doing something instead of just waiting around made me feel productive, like I wasn’t wasting my time. I find myself doing the same thing when I realize that there is traffic on my route: If I just drive a different but roundabout way, even if it takes as long if not longer, I at least don’t feel irritated at sitting around in traffic.
This is totally a me problem (but maybe you relate?). I find doing nothing to be much more overwhelming than a full to-do list. I feel guilty for wasting valuable time sitting around when there are meals to be made, bathrooms to be cleaned, laundry to be folded. I value my efficiency, the ability to see what needs to get done and methodically tackle the checklist items standing in the way between now and when my head hits the pillow.
Unfortunately, this mindset leaves very little room for impromptu requests for snuggling a toddler or playing a game with my kids—and in my spiritual life, from quiet sit-downs with the Lord. Reading a spiritual book, praying a rosary, or thumbing through my Bible all seem like more productive uses of my prayer time than doing “nothing.” Or when I have a few moments in my afternoon to take a break and maybe say a quick prayer, I wonder how I can fill that time with something “productive” instead.
The Lord often calls me out of this mindset, sometimes with a little voice in my heart calling my name to stop and pray and sometimes with a little voice asking, “Mommy, can you read me a book?” But saying yes can take a lot from this type A, doer kind of mom. What is to be done with someone like me? On one hand, the list of things is myriad, my time is finite, and I am a mere mortal. On the other hand, can interruptions, waiting in line, or pausing for just a moment find a place in my day?
St. Francis de Sales wisely wrote, “Don’t rely on your own efforts to succeed in your various undertakings, but only on God’s help. Then rest in His care for you provided that you, for your part, work diligently but gently. A tense diligence is harmful both to our heart and to our task and is not diligence but rather overeagerness and anxiety.”
This great saint, one of my favorites, understood the role of laity and knew that married couples and parents had a different sort of emotional and physical load to carry. But he encourages us to approach our vocations and our work with a sense of peace and gentleness. When I cling too tightly to efficiently burning through my to-do list, I am living away from God’s peace and refusing to see past my (truthfully, selfish) desires to relentlessly tackle what I think needs to be done.
Can I be a productive mom who serves her family diligently? Yes. But can I also approach my Costco runs more peacefully and allow space for interruptions to my carefully laid plans? Absolutely.
Where is the Lord inviting us to slow down, to give Him our waiting, to allow us to do “nothing” but spend time with Him and our families? When my to-do list is long, can I approach it loosely, with gentleness rather than desperately clinging to the hopes that I will get everything done? There is beauty in the “waiting around.” Can we try to open our eyes to it?