One Step Enough: On hurry, presence, and anxiety...
Dear Jack and Bennett...
For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matthew 6:21, ESV)
Dear Jack and Bennett,
A few weeks ago, I had a series of bad dreams that woke me up at 3 a.m. This isn’t totally out of the ordinary, though the concentration of bad dreams was unusual. I’m typically able to quiet my mind and doze back to sleep, but Monday was not one of those mornings.
You all, however, seemed to sleep just fine.
Bennett, you were the first to greet me. You woke up on your own, which is—usually—a sign that you’ll be in a good mood.
I had just returned from the grocery store with coffee—because, of course, we were out of coffee—and was laser-focused on getting that going before launching into the long list of weekday morning tasks to get you out the door to school.
And as I turned, not to say, “Good morning,” like any decent human being, you, with a wry, toothy grin that suggested you were up to no good, said, “Good morning, dada.”
For a moment, I looked around, trying to figure out what trap you had set for me, eventually realizing that there was none.
You were simply happy to see me and had not a worry in the world.
The difference between us was jarring.
I stared as you dragged the barstool over to the counter so that you could be sure that we would add *just the right amount* of granola to your yogurt.
“Dada, can I help you?”
That moment was just enough to make me realize that maybe what was consuming my attention wasn’t all that important. They were, after all, things beyond my reach and not yet here.
I realized that I had fallen into one of Screwtape’s traps:1
We want him to be in the maximum uncertainty, so that his mind will be filled with contradictory pictures of the future, every one of which arouses hope or fear. There is nothing like suspense and anxiety for barricading a human’s mind against [God]. [God] wants men to be concerned with what they do; our business is to keep them thinking about what will happen to them.
You, on the other hand, have no worries except for the present concern of whether you could help make your own breakfast. It made me think that if our circumstances were different, you wouldn’t be any less happy as long as you woke up to me, your mom, and Jack.
I was stuck wondering what was going to happen to me.
That same day, your mom sent me a podcast episode titled Why You Never Have Enough Time, and it became very apparent to me that God was trying to teach me something about attention.
(The devil definitely doesn’t want you to listen to this^ episode.)
My general takeaways from the episode were that there are two reasons someone feels like they never have enough time: They struggle with being present, and they struggle with emotional overwhelm (which just might be the same thing).
There is something about being present that seems to expand time. When you’re enjoying what you’re doing or locked into a flow state, you’re typically not thinking about what’s next on the list.
I’ve always thought that Jesus said the kingdom of heaven belongs to children because of their innocence or the general humility with which children approach the world. Those things are probably true on some level, but I’m starting to believe it’s more so because children live in the present, which, as Screwtape warns Wormwood, “… is the point at which time touches eternity” (definitely not where the devil wants you). I suppose that is a form of humility, though, since it’s ultimately a recognition that there’s very little we can control about the future.
Just like that, I was back in the kitchen making breakfast with you. Right where I was supposed to be.
Despite what anyone might lead you to believe, there is so little about the future that we can control. It is not insignificant that immediately before telling us not to be anxious about tomorrow, the Gospel of Matthew warns us about where we’re storing up our treasures (Matthew 6).
It’s easier to live in the future than the present because the present actually requires something of you now: time, energy, attention to a relationship, a conversation, a cross to bear.
Love,
Dad
P.S. When I feel anxious, I pray these words from St. John Henry Newman’s hymn, Lead Kindly Light:
Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on;
The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on.
Keep Thou my feet;
I do not ask to see the distant scene;
one step enough for me.
The Screwtape Letters are a series of fictional letters from a senior demon, Screwtape, to his nephew, Wormwood, teaching him how to lead human souls astray. The book was written by C.S. Lewis.