Three times in the last week or so, I have received a communication from someone which says ‘I know you are very busy…’ and these have stuck in my mind. One of these said ‘I am sure you are very busy—I know that I am.’
A couple of things struck me immediately. The first, and most urgent, was: What have I said or done that has provoked this comment? Am I looking tired, or hassled? Have I failed to give people my attention? Have I not replied to messages? What is it that makes me look ‘busy’? If I am giving off signs that I am busy, that suggests that I broadcasting a signal ‘I don’t have time for you’—and that is worrying.
Secondly, how do I reply to this comment? In our culture, are we allowed to say ‘Actually, I am not very busy’? I practised saying this in my head, and it sounded odd. What kind of people say ‘I’m not busy’? When my late mother retired, one of her comments was ‘I don’t know how I ever found the time to work!’ Even in retirement, she was busy. We appear to have created a culture where the only people who are not ‘busy’ are people who are, well, a bit sad. Busyness has become the mark of a full and satisfied life. But is it really so?
So what do we mean when we say ‘I am very busy’? It might actually mean ‘I am in a role which demands more of me than I want to give.’ This might be the case for those in ‘secular’ employment or with responsibilities for family members. We might genuinely be in a situation which, through little choice of our own, makes unsustainable demands of us. Economic pressures have recently robbed us of an hour’s sleep; we sleep too little on average; and the hyper connectivity of digital devices makes it worse. Clergy need to take this reality seriously. They are in the incredibly privileged position of having more control over their own time than most in their congregations; woe betide the vicar who takes the morning off and then complains when commuters who were up at 6 am don’t attend an evening meeting!
The phrase ‘I’m very busy’ is sometimes a cry from the heart—I feel oppressed by the burden of the things I am supposed to do—either from a sense of guilt, or need, or the agendas others impose on me.
One of my favourite books on time management is Do It Tomorrow by Mark Forster, who also wrote Get Everything Done and Still Have Time to Play. Mark refreshingly blows away a lot of nonsense about time management—including the idea that you can ever ‘manage’ time. The issues about busyness we face are not issues of time management, but issues of self management—how we perceive things and how we organise our lives. Romans 7 is actually highly relevant to our ‘time management’ issues!
But Forster also highlights early on a key reality: if we are ‘busy’ then it might simply be that we are over-committed. How much work can you do in an hour? Answer: an hour’s worth. But if you are committed to 2 hours’ work in an hour, no amount of ‘time management’ is going to solve that. You actually need to cut down on your commitments. That is more easily said than done, but it still raises a challenge for me. Do I take on too much? Am I too quick to say ‘yes’ to things? Even if a large part of the commitments we have is not under our control, there are always parts which are.
Saying ‘I am very busy’ can express a different kind of frustration too. It might not simply be the amount of work we have, but the way it comes to us. Constant demands and a steady stream of interruptions can frustrate our sense that we are achieving anything. (Ask my wife!) Mark Forster again puts his finger on this: what we need is ‘sufficient focussed attention’ on the things that are important. And that means setting aside some of the immediate demands. Do emails need to be answered on the day they are received? Can I talk to that person tomorrow, rather than right now? Does that meeting need to be this week, rather than next? This is where we need to use careful judgement; putting people off can communicate the ‘I am very busy’ line. But surely better to say ‘I’m not too busy; let’s chat tomorrow’ than ‘Yes, I can talk now…but I have a lot to do!’
But there is also a third possibility: we make ourselves busy because that is the way we gain a sense of significance. If we were not busy, there might be the gnawing sense that we are not, after all, totally and absolutely indispensable to the projects we are involved in and the people we are in contact with. And that is deeply threatening unless we have a well-rooted sense of identity and confidence in who we are.
God gives us two gifts which can serve as a defence against these feelings. The first is the gift of Sabbath. The command to rest (not just me, but all my household) is at once an invitation to trust in God for his provision (the crops will still grow, the emails will wait another day) as well as a bulwark against the presumption that the universe will not run unless I do my bit to keep it going. In fact, Sabbath rest can often be a key to fruitfulness. Last week I saw an interesting ‘infographic’ which suggested that the world’s greatest creative geniuses had only achieved what they had because they took rest seriously.
The second is the gift of calling. If we are involved in the things we are because God has called us to them, is our level of busyness a reflection of that call? Is God calling us to be busy? In one sense, yes. We are to ‘redeem the time’ (Eph 5.16). But I am not sure that this is always the source of my busyness.
So: are you busy? What is the reason for your busyness? Is it poor use of time? Or circumstances beyond your control? Do you need to give more ‘sufficient focussed attention’ to some of the things you are doing? In the end, is your activity borne out of your sense of God’s call on your life? Are you free to say to someone ‘I’m not busy’?