When everything matters, nothing gets your best…
There are few phrases more universally accepted than:
“I just don’t have time.”
We say it about exercise. Prayer. Calling our parents. Reading. Seeing friends. Getting enough sleep. Finally dealing with the box in the garage that has followed us through two moves and may now legally qualify as a dependent.
We’re busy.
Everyone understands.
Then Sunday morning your phone cheerfully informs you that your screen time averaged four hours and seventeen minutes a day.
This feels unnecessarily judgmental for a device you paid for.
Maybe the problem isn’t always that we don’t have enough time.
Maybe we’ve quietly given too much of it away.
The Martha Problem
In Luke 10, Jesus visits the home of two sisters, Martha and Mary.
Martha gets to work.
Mary sits at Jesus’ feet and listens.
Eventually, Martha has had enough.
“Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” — Luke 10:40
It’s hard not to sympathize with Martha.
There are guests in the house. Things need to get done. And Mary is sitting there while Martha presumably wonders whether Jesus and twelve grown men plan to wash any of their own dishes.
But Jesus doesn’t criticize Martha for working.
He says something more interesting:
“Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary.” — Luke 10:41–42
Many things.
That’s the phrase worth noticing.
Martha’s problem wasn’t responsibility. It was that so many things had become important at once that she could no longer recognize what mattered most in that moment.
That problem has aged remarkably well.
Everything Became Important
Modern life gives us access to an astonishing number of worthwhile things.
We can build careers, raise families, volunteer, travel, exercise, coach soccer, maintain friendships, serve at church, listen to podcasts, answer email, follow the news, improve ourselves, manage investments, learn Italian, drink enough water, and somehow prepare meals containing thirty grams of protein.
None of these things is necessarily bad.
That’s what makes this difficult.
Most overcommitment isn’t caused by choosing between something good and something terrible.
It’s caused by choosing between too many good things.
So we say yes.
Then yes again.
Then one more yes because it’s only an hour.
Eventually, Tuesday looks like an air traffic control screen.
And the things we claim matter most get whatever is left.
Your Calendar Is Surprisingly Honest
Ask someone what matters most and you’ll usually hear some combination of faith, family, health, relationships, meaningful work, and community.
Then look at how we actually spend our attention.
That’s a more uncomfortable conversation.
Our calendars and phones don’t know what we intended to value. They simply record what happened.
Thirty minutes disappeared here. An evening disappeared there. We agreed to something we didn’t really want to do because saying no felt awkward. We checked one notification and somehow resurfaced twenty-three minutes later knowing far more about a stranger’s kitchen renovation than we’d planned.
None of these moments ruined our lives.
They just accumulated.
And eventually we find ourselves saying we don’t have time for the very things we insist matter most.
Every Yes Costs Something
One of the least enjoyable truths about being human is that we cannot do everything.
Every yes carries a no somewhere inside it.
Yes to another commitment may mean no to an unhurried dinner.
Yes to another hour of work may mean no to sleep.
Yes to constant availability may mean no to attention.
And sometimes saying no to something genuinely good is the only way to say a meaningful yes to something better.
Jesus did this.
People wanted His attention constantly. There were more sick people to heal, more towns to visit, more crowds to teach.
Yet He withdrew to pray.
He rested.
He left places where people still wanted Him.
Jesus had needs around Him that remained unmet.
That’s worth sitting with.
Apparently, faithfulness does not require personally responding to every possible need, opportunity, invitation, notification, and group text.
Thank God.
Especially for the group text.
Maybe You Need Less
When life feels overwhelming, our instinct is often to search for a better system.
A new planner.
A productivity app.
A morning routine involving cold water and something called “habit stacking.”
Sometimes those things help.
But occasionally the answer isn’t organizing everything better.
It’s doing fewer things.
Not because the things you’re removing are bad.
Because your life has limits.
Attention has limits.
Energy has limits.
And accepting those limits may be less about giving up and more about finally deciding what deserves you.
A Small, Doable Challenge
Look at the next seven days of your life.
Don’t ask, How can I fit everything in?
Ask:
What am I giving time to that matters less than what it’s taking time from?
Maybe it’s a commitment.
Maybe it’s a habit.
Maybe it’s the hour that disappears into your phone every night.
Pick one thing and make a little room.
Then resist the urge to immediately fill that room with something else.
You don’t need to optimize every minute of your life.
You need enough space to notice which minutes actually matter.




