It’s Wednesday, the middle of the first full week of May. Exams are beginning, recitals are scheduled, teacher gifts are bought (or are at least on the list). The schedule calls for high gear, quick movements, finished tasks.

In the hustle of May, it can be easy to forget who we are.

flower

And so I pause this morning, take a walk around the block, consider the day as it is and myself within it. As I walk, I whisper something ridiculous: I am not a robot.

This seems obvious, except it isn’t always for me. I recognize a compulsion to focus on tasks and an inability to celebrate their completion. Instead, I just move on to the next one.

There is something un-human about that.

I read in Richard Foster’s book on prayer, “Real prayer comes not from gritting our teeth but from falling in love.” I pause to think about those words, rub my sore jaw. Love is a choice and love takes time.

Our souls aren’t made to hustle.

beloved

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