The Danger of Hurriedness: Rediscovering the Un-hurried Life

We live in a world that wears busyness like a badge of honor. Our calendars overflow, our minds race, and our screens never stop glowing. We've become experts at constant activity, yet somewhere in all the noise, we've lost something precious: the ability to simply be still.

The ancient wisdom of Scripture offers us a different path. From the very beginning, God established rhythms for His people—daily quiet times, weekly Sabbaths, and annual celebrations designed to help us step back and contemplate His goodness. These weren't suggestions; they were essential patterns for a balanced, faithful life.

Yet balance remains elusive. As one wise observer noted, "If the devil can't make you evil, he will just make you busy." This truth cuts deep. The enemy of our souls doesn't need to drag us into obvious sin when he can simply keep us perpetually distracted, constantly moving, endlessly occupied. A hurried life becomes a weapon against our spiritual vitality.

The Triple Threat of Hurriedness
Our frantic pace damages us in three critical areas. First, it devastates our relationship with God. The Bible reminds us that unless we abide in Christ and remain connected to Him, we cannot bear spiritual fruit. Proverbs 19:2 warns us: "Desire without knowledge is not good, but how much more will hasty feet miss the way!" When we're constantly moving, doing for God instead of with God, we miss the very presence we claim to seek.

Second, hurriedness destroys our relationships with others. Consider the definition of love found in 1 Corinthians 13:4: "Love is patient." Patience requires time. Deep, meaningful relationships cannot be rushed. Yet we've become experts at rock-skipping connections—touching the surface briefly before bouncing to the next thing. We skip and skip and skip until we lose momentum and sink, isolated and alone despite being surrounded by people.

Third, our effectiveness in serving God suffers. We were called to be disciples—followers of Jesus who are being changed by Him and committed to His mission. Matthew 4:19 captures this beautifully: "Come and follow me, Jesus said, and I will make you fishers of men." The invitation to discipleship begins with "come and follow," not "run ahead and accomplish." Being with Jesus transforms how we see the world and prepares us for meaningful service.

The Parable That Changes Everything
Jesus illustrated these truths powerfully in the story of the Good Samaritan found in Luke 10. A religious expert approached Jesus asking, "What must I do to inherit eternal life?" After affirming that loving God and loving your neighbor fulfills the law, the expert asked a follow-up question: "Who is my neighbor?"

This question reveals our human tendency to limit our obligations. We want boundaries. We want to know exactly who deserves our time and attention so we can efficiently manage our lives.

Jesus responded with a story about a man beaten by robbers and left half-dead on the road. A priest saw him and passed by. A Levite did the same. But a Samaritan—someone despised by Jewish society—stopped, cared for the wounded man, and paid for his recovery.

Then Jesus flipped the question. Instead of asking "Who is my neighbor?" He asked "Who was a neighbor?" The shift is profound. Stop worrying about who qualifies for your help. Instead, become the kind of person who helps.

Three Categories of People
This parable reveals three worldviews. The robbers believed "What's yours is mine if I can get it." They took without conscience.

The religious leaders believed "What's mine is mine, and you can't have it." They weren't thieves, but they weren't generous either. They protected their resources, time, and energy for themselves.

The Samaritan believed "What's mine belongs to God, and you can have it." He understood that everything he possessed was a gift to be shared, not a treasure to be hoarded.

Why We Pass By
What caused the priest and Levite to walk past someone in desperate need? Perhaps they thought: "I already did my religious duty this week. Church is church; life is life. I checked my box."

Maybe they reasoned: "I'm on my way to do important ministry. I can't stop for this one person when I have bigger responsibilities."

Perhaps they assumed: "This person probably did something to deserve this. What you sow, you reap."

Or possibly: "No one will see me help, so what's the point? I won't get credit for it."

These excuses sound disturbingly familiar. We miss opportunities to serve because we're too busy with "important" things. We get exhausted fighting large-scale cultural battles while ignoring the person right in front of us who needs help. We convince ourselves that our time at church fulfills our Christian obligation, leaving nothing for actual ministry in daily life.

First Things First
The call is clear: slow down and see people as Jesus sees them. Don't worry about whether helping seems big or small by worldly standards. Be faithful with what's right in front of you. Integrity means doing your best to be who you say you are, one person at a time, one day at a time.

Colossians 3:1-4 challenges us: "Since then you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God."

We cannot allow the world to dictate how we spend our time, energy, and effort. Living according to worldly standards is exhausting and wastes the precious resources God has given us. We take nothing with us to eternity except the relationships we've invested in and the character we've developed.

The Invitation
The path forward requires intentional choice. Evaluate your life honestly. Are you too involved in too many things? What needs to be tweaked or eliminated? Create margin for relationship with God and others. Open your hands and release your grip on your time, possessions, and agenda.

When we slow down and spend time with Jesus, we develop spiritual vision. We begin to see what matters most to Him. We notice the hurting person everyone else walks past. We make time for the child everyone else dismisses. We extend grace when others extend judgment.

This is the unhurried life—not lazy or unproductive, but intentional and focused on what truly matters. It's a life that reflects the heart of the One who left heaven to meet us in our brokenness, who had time for the outcast and the overlooked, who valued people over programs.

The question remains: Will we go and do likewise?