Wednesday Read: The Deception of Busyness

Nehemiah faced an impossible deadline. Rebuild Jerusalem's walls in fifty-two days while facing external opposition, internal conflict, and limited resources. Yet when his enemies invited him to meet them in the plain of Ono—likely a trap to distract or assassinate him—Nehemiah's response

Wednesday Read: The Deception of Busyness

Nehemiah faced an impossible deadline. Rebuild Jerusalem's walls in fifty-two days while facing external opposition, internal conflict, and limited resources. Yet when his enemies invited him to meet them in the plain of Ono—likely a trap to distract or assassinate him—Nehemiah's response was immediate: "I am doing a great work and I cannot come down" (Nehemiah 6:3). He didn't decline because he was too busy; he declined because he was too focused. Nehemiah understood the difference between productivity and busyness, between purposeful activity and mere motion.

Modern Christianity has confused frantic activity with faithful service. We measure spiritual maturity by calendar fullness, assuming that busy believers are committed believers. Church schedules overflow with programs, committees, and activities, leaving members exhausted rather than equipped, overwhelmed rather than inspired. Pastors boast about their packed schedules as evidence of ministry success, while laypeople compete in informal contests of who has less time for rest, reflection, or relationships.

But Jesus regularly withdrew from crowds to pray in solitude (Luke 5:16). Despite having only three years of public ministry and countless needs surrounding him, he often said no to urgent requests in order to focus on essential priorities. When the disciples interrupted his prayer time to tell him that crowds were seeking him, Jesus responded, "Let us go on to the next towns, that I may preach there also, for that is why I came out" (Mark 1:38). He refused to let other people's urgency dictate his agenda.

Busyness becomes a drug that numbs spiritual sensitivity. When we're constantly moving, constantly responding, constantly producing, we lose the ability to hear God's voice, recognize his leading, and enjoy his presence. We mistake activity for accomplishment, confusing the urgent with the important, equating motion with progress. Like Martha, we become "anxious and troubled about many things" while missing the "one thing" that's truly necessary.

The Sabbath command directly confronts our busyness addiction: "Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy" (Exodus 20:8). This isn't just about attending church—it's about trusting God enough to stop working, stop producing, stop controlling our lives for one day each week. It's a declaration that our identity doesn't depend on our productivity, our worth doesn't flow from our work, and God's kingdom doesn't rely on our constant effort.

What drives your busyness—genuine calling or fear of insignificance? How do you respond when asked to take on additional responsibilities? Are you able to rest without guilt, to say no without extensive justification, to prioritize relationship over achievement? Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is stop doing and start being—being present to God, to family, to the moment he's given you right now.