My friend, Cindy, sent me this quote by Dallas Willard last week.Little did she know that God was already orchestrating my elimination of HURRY.  I got sick.  On vacation.  So, I spent several days in bed while the family went to the beach.  I got up in short spurts, enough to build a puzzle and read a wonderful book about Beethoven.  That was it.  That was my speed.  Not much Hurry to it.

I'm in a season of eliminating Hurry.  We purposely didn't sign the kids up for swim this summer.  Or camps.  We bought a family pass to the local pool and that's our idea of an afternoon of fun.  The kids play without stopping under the watchful eyes of five lifeguards.  I sit in the shade and read a book.  Or not.

I'm looking ahead to the fall.  The kids will be in school and it will be tempting to fill my schedule with all the things I haven't gotten to since my surgery.  That's four months of inefficiency.  It's killing me.  But I'm fighting the urge to fill up my time.  I'm contemplating blocking off an entire day each week just to be silent at home.  My old self is whispering, "That's selfish."  My new, weaker self is whispering, "That's healthy."

Chris and I have reassessed many things since my surgery.  One of the things I'm surprised to discover is that I need mental space.  I need to process life (especially with a teenager in the house... just being honest!) and I guess I'm not very good at processing on-the-go.  I need time and quiet to pray, read, think, write.  In fact, it's the writing that has really helped me process the most.  But I just can't do that with a houseful of needy little humans.In my defense, I'm good at Hurry.  I can get a lot done in a short amount of time.  I've perfected the art.  But, now, post-surgery, I can see that living at that speed has not helped me walk with Jesus well.  It has not helped me see my needy neighbor or hear the gentle whisper of my Lord saying, "Spend time with me, Dear One."  I hear it now.  I don't want to drown out that voice.

So, I'm eliminating HURRY.   I'm deliberately indulging in space.  There's beauty in SLOW.  There's time to stop and smell the roses.  There's kindness in taking care of myself so I can care for others.  I refuse to believe otherwise.