The buzz on "busy"





A busy bee got my attention one day when I looked out my office window at the blooming rhododendrons.  As he floated from one blossom to another, I thought of a children’s book I’ve been reading my grandson Josiah. It follows a diligent bee who says “no” to farm animals inviting him to play with them. “I’ve got work to do,” he says, buzzing to the next flower. The bee finished his work by the last page when he rewarded the farmer with honey—and the book’s electronic cell rewarded the reader with a happy “buzz.” Toddlers love those surprises in their books!

“I’ve got work to do” often comes out of my mouth. The work ethic modeled for me in childhood continued into my working life as a reporter with its stressful deadlines requiring focus and productivity. I still remember the loud clatter of old-fashioned typewriters in the newsroom, the mechanical version of buzzing bees. Now, juggling housework, writing, and care of others keeps me buzzing from project to project.

 Sometimes I think about how busy the Bible’s Martha felt, especially when Jesus dropped in for a visit. What a privilege to have Him come.  But she didn’t have a microwave to zap Him and His companions a ready-made meal, or an “app” to have one delivered from the pizza parlor. In those days, everything about homemaking was labor-intensive. I “get” her desire to serve a meal worthy of this amazing Person.  But I also understand Jesus’ admonition, “Only one thing is needed,” to mean that a simple meal, not a showcase menu, was okay. Yes, she got a bit snippy toward Mary, who wasn’t helping. But stomachs would have rumbled if they’d both sat at Jesus’ feet.

We need the balance of Martha and Mary in our spiritual personalities. In his book The Attentive Life (IVP, 2008), former Graham team evangelist Leighton Ford explained how some of us lean toward the mundane things of life, and some toward the so-called “spiritual,” but both traits are necessary. As an example, he quoted Mother Teresa, talking of the work of the Sisters of Mercy in caring for the dying poor in India: “Do not think of us as social workers,” she said, alluding to the “Martha” side.  “We are contemplatives in the midst of life. We pray the work” (p. 107).

Like Martha, we need to be diligent about serving God (akin to the bee making honey). James 4:17 says we sin when we know what we ought to do, and don’t do it. But we also need the “Mary” side that savors the spiritual nectar in God’s Word, “sweeter than honey, than honey from the comb” (Psalm 19:10).

Too busy? Break a leg....

The usual too-busy Christmas season was underway that Saturday morning, Dec. 16, 2006. I had hurried to the shopping center with three items on my to-do list before returning home to wash and set my 86-year-old mom-in-law’s hair. I just needed to find a citrus peeler, buy some groceries, and mail a stack of holiday greetings.

I had checked off item number one and was carefully making my way down an ice-covered public stairway in the mall, gripping the handrails, when my life was changed. Somehow, between handholds, my feet gave way and I landed at the bottom with a broken ankle. I sat on compact snow and ice in pain as passers-by walked around me to take care of their errands. Finally, somebody stopped, saw I wasn’t getting up, and offered to call an ambulance.

Later that evening, as a nurse rolled me out of surgery recovery, she said, “Honey, you won’t be going very many places for six weeks, at least.”

This could not be! It was Christmas! Plus, I was a care-giver for my mother-in-law, whose Alzheimer’s had progressed to the point where I was taking her meals, dispensing her pills, doing her laundry, and generally keeping her clean and healthy. Once the do-it-all person, now I had to sit back in a recliner, broken limb elevated, and learn a few lessons. Among them:
*The world will not stop even if I do.
*My family would survive.
*Care-giving my mom-in-law would happen with others pitching in.
*I had to accept help (meals, laundry, housework) because I just couldn’t do it.
*My family would find me to be a source of humor (pain pills do that to you).

I wouldn’t wish a broken ankle on anybody. I walk very carefully now when there’s ice about. I have wicked grippers for my snow boots. I’ve healed as best as possible, but those traumatized bones (the surgeon said, “You smushed it good”) let me know in advance that the weather is changing.

And when Christmas comes, I’m no longer the holiday tornado.

Yesterday morning before going to his afternoon substitute teaching job, my husband was listening to a Bill Gaither vocal band video featuring Larnell Harris. As I heated soup and made grilled cheese sandwiches for his lunch, I listened…and was touched by these words Larnell sang: “Precious Lord, take my hand.”

This year, more than any other, that expresses my heart. I’ve learned to cut back on expectations at the holidays. I am seeking more quiet places to listen to God, to sense Him taking my hand.

And it won’t take breaking a leg (or an ankle) for that to happen.