The Inverse Relationship Between Busyness and Joy

My first job after college was an internship at my home church.

It was the year 2000 and things were simpler.

I led a college age ministry, and prepared for the day when Kristen and I would enter the mission field in southern Spain. [That day never arrived, but that’s a different story.]

Kristen worked part-time at our local library, we spent a lot of time with friends, and experienced a miscarriage. It wasn’t easy, but it was less… hectic.

I distinctly remember a repeated experience I had during those years. Often, during a drive home at the end of my work day, I had an overwhelming feeling of serendipity.

Life went into slow motion for about ten seconds. A deep sense of gratitude and satisfaction washed over my heart like a sunrise in the middle of the late afternoon.

I don’t know when I stopped having those experiences, but I am certain that their disappearance is correlated to the rising business and increasing speed of life the next two decades. 

A frenetic pace, it turns out, seldom converts to moments of joy and awe.

It’s taken me nearly three years of life at a somewhat slower pace for those unbidden moments of serendipity, awe, and appreciation to bloom again.

What finally pushed those daisies back up to the surface?

Multnomah Falls.

Recently, while on a business trip for a speaking engagement, Kristen and I detoured to the Oregon icon.

My keynote the night before had been electric. The group responded verbally to many of my points, calling back to me, laughing, and groaning with recognition. After the session and many personal conversations with attendees, we grabbed Taco Bell, left Spokane, and drove through a desolate part of Washington state. The dusky sky put on a show of colors, clouds, and contrast that endured for the entire trip. 

The next morning, after a quick breakfast at our Best Western, we drove to the falls. 

As we approached, the grandeur of the site was visible from a distance. We stopped in the middle of the path as other tourists kept buzzing back and forth.

I was struck. Breathless. Tears came to my eyes. I was speechless.

The purpose of our trip to the Pacific Northwest was to a) inform an association of nursing professors that it’s not their fault they feel so burned out, b) tell them my burnout story, and c) give them some practical tips for recovery. 

Twelve hours later, we stood in awe of the upper and lower falls that featured in the movie, “The Shack.” 

Awe.

Appreciation.

Serendipity.

Joy cannot be forced. It has to dawn on you.

It dawned on me again during that trip.

May your frenetic pace slow long enough this week for you to feel awe, to appreciate, and to have joy dawn on you.