Fullness over Procrastination

Last night, I drove out to visit some family, and when I got home, I was promptly greeted by the pile of dishes I’d left from breakfast and lunch. I’d planned to “do them later,” and now that later was here, I found it still wasn’t late enough (tomorrow sounded better). Instead of plunging my hands into soapy dishwater, I beelined for my nighttime serums and my toothbrush. Then, realizing I was thirsty, I found myself back at the sink again, staring at a mess I didn’t want to clean up and knowing that dirty dishes in the sink overnight will summon creepy crawlies, but a clean kitchen in the morning really does make for a happier Mia.

I resolved to do the dishes, cleaning up a mess I’d rather have left until morning. 

Please tell me I’m not alone here.

There are a lot of reasons we procrastinate - laziness, uncertainty, or lack of confidence to name a few - but we all do it. I’m doing it now, actually, or I guess I was before I started this blog. 

Finally moving the last box into my New York apartment was a moment bursting with everything. Hope. Exhaustion. Longing. Contentedness. Expectancy. Confusion. And more, all tangled up together in a ball of string that, even today, I’m not exactly sure what to do with. So it sits in the living room of my mind, an interesting centerpiece, somehow both haunting and lovely. This morning, I’m wondering, why am I leaving that tangled heap in the middle of the room? Should I tug a string? Can I even do the work of untangling? Will untangling instead become unraveling, and what will that mean for me? 

Maybe that’s why I’ve left it to sit for so long and done my living and working around it, unsure of what to do (or when, or how). 

An inner procrastination.

But now, I fear I am beginning the slow process of adapting to its presence - noticing it less and less, like the dings in the walls or small scratches on the hardwoods. When they are part of our homes, our eyes and our mind learn their presence, become accustomed to their existence, and then ignore them altogether. When we procrastinate long enough on doing our inner work, we can become almost unconscious to that which we once resolved to do.

In John 15:1-3, Jesus explains He is the true vine, His Father is the gardener, and His father will cut off unfruitful branches and prune the fruitful ones. He expands on this in John 15:5 by saying, “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” This is the linchpin - we all have inner work to do. Whether we are talking about healing or purpose or forgiveness or something else entirely, we can only do it fruitfully when we are in Jesus. Apart from him, we can’t bear the intended fruit of that work, fruit that is intended for the good of others. And to take it further, if we are procrastinating on these inner things, we aren’t walking as closely with Jesus as we could be, which means we are accepting a life of less instead of abundance.

As I think back on that ball of string, I have to be vulnerable and say that lately, I’ve been nonchalant with my time. I haven’t been a good steward of much, and I’ve mostly just been working and “living my life” as they say. These aren’t bad things, but Jesus has called me to more than just existence. He has called me to above and beyond and fullness. 

He’s called you to this, too. 

And as I think about the kind heart of Jesus, I am moved to repentance for all the ways I’ve wasted time staring at that tangled mess instead of asking Him to help me sort it out, instead of asking Him which string I should start with. 

I don’t have a clear answer for you here because I am currently in the middle of all of this *wildly gestures hands*, so I can’t tie this blog up with a pretty string (because that string is all still in a tangled mess - hah). However, I can tell you that you were made for great, beautiful things. 

You are purposed and marked and chosen.

The heart of your Father is to help you push past inner procrastination and into fullness.

He wants to untangle and remove old things with the purpose of bringing new growth and fruit.

He wants to hold your hand and get to work, so let Him.

Oh, and also, go do your dishes.