The Potential of Less

Okay, I did it. I chose a word for the year. I never do that, (at least not on purpose, as you read in My Word of the Year post last fall). I was jotting down my list of “potentials” (this feels like a safer word than “resolutions”), things I’d like to improve upon, accomplish, and refrain from in the next twelve months when I realized all of it could be summed up with one word: less. Imagine how much more I could accomplish if I procrastinated less. How much healthier could I be if overindulged less? I could be far more present if I was distracted less. If I want to compare less, I should be on social media less. I could spend less if I ordered from Starbucks less. (I told you these were just potentials.) You get the idea. We could all use a little less in our lives, couldn’t we? The less we have, the more space we create to see what matters.

Procrastination and excuses have kept me from doing a lot of things. Sometimes it’s a small thing, like deep cleaning my fridge. (I prefer to live in blissful ignorance of the sludge that’s gathered behind the produce drawer.) But usually, it’s a long-term goal that’s been on my list of “someday” for far too long. For example, someday I’d like to finish my Bachelor’s Degree. Someday I’d like to do more than just play an occasional song on my piano; I’d like to practice a few times a week and hone my once-sharpened skills of reading music. Someday I’d like to lead a women’s fitness program based on biblical truth; helping women see their worth in Christ. I’m out of excuses. If I procrastinate less, I could reach these goals.

Overindulgence has hindered me from developing healthier habits. I drink more coffee than water. I eat more bread than vegetables. I choose the couch far more times than I choose to exercise. I binge-watch tv more times than I pick up a book. I’ll pick up my phone to send a quick text and end up scrolling social media for twenty minutes straight. Less overconsumption and more moderation will be a very good thing for both my body and my mind.

Less distraction is a big one, and so very vital to becoming the wife, the mom, and the woman I want to be. Screentime, be it my television, computer, or my phone, is by far my biggest distraction. They distract me from my time in God’s word, from conversations with my children, from connection with my husband, and from my responsibilities in general. Two years ago I picked up Jen Hatmaker’s book, “7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess,” and my world was rocked. I participated in her 7 experiments and gave up all media for a month. I hated the idea of losing my phone for thirty days, and that’s how I knew I’d unearthed an idol. It turned out to be one of the most freeing things I’d ever done. “The dangerous part of our social media and the technologically saturated world is not its existence but what it distracts us from,” says Hatmaker. I cringe to think of all the times I’ve chosen a screen over participating in my real life.

For me, comparing less will lead to spending less and purging more. Part of the 7 experiments was getting rid of seven items a day for a month; reducing the clutter and excess from my home, most of which I’d purchased in a futile effort to keep up with Joneses. It also involved wearing only seven items of clothing for an entire thirty days. It turns out people care far less about what I’m wearing than I thought. (How humbling.) Just as Jen Hatmaker said she’d, “discovered reduced consumption doesn’t equal reduced community or reduced contentment,” I too realized that my happiness had nothing to do with my belongings or my wardrobe. All my friends were still my friends even after I’d given away hundreds of my things and worn the same shirt for a week straight. But comparison tells me otherwise. Comparison tells me I will never be satisfied unless I have what they have; be it money, clothing, home, car, career, etc. “What I know now is this: less. I don’t need to have the most, be the best, or reach the top. It is okay to pursue a life marked by obscurity and simplicity. It doesn’t matter what I own or how I’m perceived,” writes Hatmaker. What a wasted investment comparison has been.

John the Baptist said of Jesus, “He must become greater. I must become less,” (John 3:30). Doing less is hard enough, but how do I also become less? My time and my thoughts are often so wrapped up in myself. But what if I simplified myself and amplified God instead? When I thought of ways to become less, I started with this: talk less, listen more. Oiy. This alone could be my one and only “potential” for the year and I would still struggle to master it. Some writers are quiet and reserved in person, saving all their words for the page. Not me. I’m a talker, both verbally and in writing. I’ve always had a lot to say, (just ask my parents… my friends… my husband… the barista). No one has ever described me as “quiet,” or “reserved,” in my entire 38 years of life. It should come as no surprise then that selfishness is a frequent sin issue for me, best exemplified in my terrible listening skills. I need to create space for others to be heard and to feel known. I need to ask more questions and learn more, instead of responding with my thoughts and opinions right away. The same is true in my relationship with God. I get carried away in telling Him, instead of listening to Him. I often pray for God to speak through me, in my writing and my words, but how can He do that if I’m not quiet long enough to hear His voice? I’m certain if I talk less, I will hear so much more, and be better because of it.

Becoming less is really about surrendering selfishness, whatever form it comes in. It’s dying to myself, putting God and others first in all I do. I become less when I choose my family over whatever source of media I’m drawn to. I become less when I honor my body with healthier, more moderate choices. I become less when I steward my money to serve others instead of myself. I become less when I stifle the excuses and pursue goals He’s called me to. “In order for Jesus’ kingdom to come, my kingdom will have to go, and for the first time, I think I’m okay with that,” (Hatmaker). When you think about it, less really is more. I need to clear off the clutter to see what it is I really value. I have to unearth some idols and surrender them at the cross. I need to consume less and give more away. I need to become less so that God, the Giver of all things, becomes greater. Less has endless potential.