Learning To Slow Down

I experienced culture shock when I moved to Florida. Having lived in the city of Baltimore for several years I became used to an accelerated, hard, driving pace. Baltimore itself was loud and fast and mean. But the seminary I was attending was also very performance-oriented. I worked hard, studied hard and tried hard to prove to my teachers and peers - and God -  that I was good enough to hit the mark. I got all A’s in seminary -  then I burned out. 

On my first day in Florida I went to open a bank account in the small, quiet, rural port town I now lived in. I walked into the bank, signed in and sat down. I sat - and sat -  and soon found myself tapping my fingers, then tapping my foot, then pacing the empty waiting area, then finally asking a young bank associate -  why the long wait? ‘Ms. Schon, according to the sign in, you’ve only been here 9 minutes.” In Baltimore time, that translated into about two and a half hours! I should be in and out of here by now! “The bank manager should be with you shortly.”

Trying hard keep to keep my foot from tapping, the door of the manager’s office finally opened. I lept out of my chair then stopped. I saw the bank manager, a middle-aged Haitian-American woman in a smart navy-blue dress, assisting an elderly couple out of her office. On one arm was a frail, gray woman, well into her 80’s, on the other arm, a wrinkled, bald, crouching man, perhaps in his 90’s, walking with a cane, slowly. He would take a step, pause, inch his wobbling cane forward, then take another feeble step and pause. I sat back down and watched in painfully slow motion this couple being patiently escorted out of the bank. 

I realized then, I had to slow down. SW Florida was not Baltimore. I took a deep breath. God was allowing me to adopt a new pace. 

However, my internal pace still wanted to race a mile a minute. I recently had a friend call me out on my impatience. Since he lives in the Dominican Republic, he has adopted an even slower pace. “Slow...down...life,” he said, “It is the way of DR and Haiti.” Meditating on this, I learned a few more Creole words and told my Haitian co-worker, while trying to wrangle from her an unfinished container of cucumbers, “Mwen pa yon pasyans blan .” I am not a patient white person! It got her laughing pretty hard. 

And of course, like any good ‘9-5’, my job gives me plenty of reasons to lose my patience. Currently, the reason is Jack. Jack is a bright young 19-year old who found his way into my department a couple weeks ago. The other day, I asked him to peel some carrots and cut them on a bias. Easy enough. 

He grabbed the peeler. “Did you know that carrots come in other colors besides orange?” 

“Yes, Jack, I did know that,” I replied, and watched him wave the peeler in the air as he continued.

“Did you also know that color is an illusion? Color is visual response to wavelengths of light. Light is perceived on the retina as a stimulus and is processed into a perception of color in our brain.”

“Oh, how interesting. After you get those carrots peeled, you can...”

“You know what else is an illusion? Having a job. I mean, I really don’t feel like I want to be working, especially since my whole paycheck went to rent last week. What’s it all for? Life has got to be more than this! Do you think I can get more hours? I really want some more hours. ”

“...put the peels in the garbage can over there.”

“Because there’s this new skateboard I want to get and these SICK new bearings and...”

“Jack... the carrots?”

“Did you know the Russian word for carrot is морковь? Here, I can write your name in Russian!” Pulling a small phrasebook from his pocket, Jack begins to write my name, and the names of all our female co-workers, on our assignment board - in Russian.

“Maybe it’s time we got to work, Jack?”

“Oh, OK. Um...I think I’m gonna get another cup of coffee first. Be right back!” 

So, as I finished peeling and cutting the carrots, I began to think. 

Today’s culture is breeding a generation of kids who have what is called “cultural ADHD”. The society these kids are growing up in - one of information overload, mushrooming technology, microwaves, drive-thrus, planned obsolescence, instant messaging, instant gratification, virtual relationships, twittering, flickering electronic distractions, over consumption of sugar and caffeine, lack of stable environment and anxious parenting - is affecting their development. Young children are being placed in front of television and computer screens until they are ready for their own laptop, cell phone and Facebook account. As their brains develop they become wired differently than children just a generation ago who read books, used cursive and played outside with their neighborhood friends. 

In effect we have a culture that cannot focus, cannot sit still, cannot follow instructions. They are overstimulated and impatient. Obviously it is difficult to manage these kids in the workplace. It tries my own patience, especially when there is work to be done, deadlines to meet, tasks to finish. 

But I see an even bigger problem here. I see an end-time culture that is almost physiologically incapable of ‘being still and knowing He is God.’

I know the feeling well. My own stress levels, inability to concentrate and memory-loss seemed to increase after I installed Internet in my home not too long ago. The more information I gather, the more topics I research, the more time I spend listening to the media, the more ‘socializing’ I do on Facebook, the less I feel connected to the Spirit. 

It concerns me. I am concerned for myself and for this new generation. I am concerned for Jack. My friend put it this way: “God leads us best when we are listening.” But how can we follow God when we can’t hear Him? When there are a thousand other voices competing in our minds, our emotions, our spirits...the only Voice that matters seems to become harder and harder to hear. 

I have found that I need to purposely and intentionally create quiet space. Jesus did this often by spending time alone away from the crowds. I, too, need to get away. I take fasts from the computer and social media. I gave up television a long time ago. I meditate. I go for walks. I set aside time to rest in Him, to do nothing but be still. This takes practice, it takes discipline. I prefer to practice yoga for a while just to get my nervous system quieted down enough to allow my brain to be still. I do what I can to...slow...down. 

I remember finally opening the account at the bank. I sat down at the woman’s desk and we began to talk. Since she was from Haiti, I tried to speak French to her,  which made her smile. She showed me pictures of her family that still lives there. She asked about my recent move to Florida, which brought me to tears. She gave me Kleenex and kind words. She happened to be a Christian and we shared sweet fellowship, ministering the love of Jesus to one another. We spent time together. We had relationship. Had I not slowed down, I would have missed it all.

And this is all that God asks of us. Slow down. Don’t be in such a hurry. Stop tapping your foot and checking the time,  checking your Facebook and texting back and forth. Stop Twittering and being distracted by all the flickering. Stop gathering information just because it’s out there. Turn off the TV, turn off the radio, unplug. 

Yet, in all of our impatience, God is patient. He waits. God is not scattered; He’s completely focused on you. He longs to connect with you in that Secret Place. He desires for you to be still and know that He is God, because in that place, you will have fellowship. Relationship. Intimacy. Connection. Power. Peace. He wants you to know Him and He wants to know you. Slow down. Be still, be still. He’s waiting...