I’m sure I’m not alone in being frequently overwhelmed by my to-do list. Or rather, lists. Sometimes it seems I’m wearing so many hats that I might as well be Bartholomew Cubbins.

Many of us could probably do with less on our plates, but for the purpose of this article, I’d actually like to focus on what a blessing busy-ness can be. While I’ve had a few near panic attacks of late, I have also had a positive realization that I hope might be helpful to some of you. That realization is this:

Having things to do is a blessing. They are signs that I’m really living.

Sometimes I feel as though I am desperately waiting for the next chance to rest. Rest is good. The Lord built rest into the very fabric of creation, so we know that it’s divinely recommended. But is rest the point of living? No. The point of living is to be useful. Yes, we can (and often do) take on too much. But if we strike some kind of balance between rest and busy-ness, then having chock full days of errands and chores can truly be a blessing. They are a sign that we are deeply alive, humming with uses. 

I’ve been thinking about the concept in the Writings of following truth because of the fact that it’s true and doing good because it is good.  Another way to put it is following truth for its own sake or doing good for its own sake.  As I go about my days, I regularly notice that my motives are a mixed bag.  As often as not, when I contemplate doing something good or following something true, my motives turn out to involve making myself look good or making somebody like me.

I know that noticing my self-centered motivations, disheartening as it can be, is actually a first step towards something better; at least I am noticing my motives (even if after the fact) instead of being completely unaware or even ignoring my motives.  And I am grateful that the Lord makes use of such less-than-perfect motivations as He leads us towards something better. 

I have recently realized that there’s an inspiring side to that concept from the Writings about following truth for its own sake and doing good for its own sake.  How amazing to aim for a place where I will follow truth or do good, not for selfish reasons, but because the Lord has made me aware of goodness and truth in their true colors – they are the most beautiful, innocent, touching and strong forces in the universe (because they come from Him).  The real characteristics of actual good and actual truth are inherently inspiring.  Goodness and truth are worth choosing for their own quality.  I know that’s super obvious in a sense, but I guess I’m seeing it from a different perspective. 

I write for a living, in more ways than one. I earn money by writing. I also write lengthy communications for everything from saving the planet to family health updates. And of course, there are my journals.

Writing as a medium is, no doubt, intricately influenced by era, culture, and mediums. Which is why Swedenborg’s sheer verbosity astounds me—it would be amazing enough if the Writings, all 7000 pages of them, were typed! My dad believes that the brain works differently when typing vs. writing by hand, and I suspect he’s right. 

But one thing hasn’t changed, and that is that we still are responsible for our own writing—or at least, we should be. Anonymity in online media today is a sure route down a rabbit hole into acrimony, hostility and mistaken assumptions. I am careful to only write what I am willing to put my name behind, for better or for worse. This has helped me to acquire a level of caution I didn’t used to have, and also discouraged, or at least slowed, my reactive (usually passionate) declarations or responses.

I want my words to be heard. I want them to matter. I want them to make the world better. These are not bad things! 

(Trigger warning: mention of child death, but not actual! Just as a basis for comparison)

My husband and I are blessed with one biological child: a nearly-eighteen-year-old, tall, handsome, responsible, kind, gentle young man. I may be a bit biased, but he really does seem to be a good guy. I love that boy with all my Zach-loving heart! That has 100% not changed, nor will it likely ever.

….And yet, thinking back on his infancy & childhood, returning my mind to snuggling with him, breastfeeding him, carrying him around, laughing and playing with that little boy…. That’s all definitely gone, never to be retrieved. It’s just as well that our young adult progeny doesn’t require breastfeeding or carrying, goodness knows! We’re proud of his achievements in the various aspects of his life, not the least of which is his ability to nourish himself and get himself around, not only within the house but now from one suburb or city – or state – to the next; and we wouldn’t change a thing about him, really…… 

It’s just that it hurts. I blessedly haven’t experienced a child of mine dying – praise be to God! I hope I never will, and my heart aches for those who have; but it occurs to me that this transformation from little child to grown (nearly) adult is akin to that. The baby that we knew, the toddler, the rambunctious preschooler, the inquisitive, parent-adoring, question-asking schoolboy, he’s definitely gone. We weathered the holier-than-thou phase of adolescence and, I’m happy to say, appear to be on the other side of that: Zach really is such a sweet young man, and I very much love sharing hugs and kisses and laughs and insights with his nearly-adult self. I wouldn’t trade him for the world! ..I just mourn the loss of my sweet little boy, sometimes.