When was the last time I didn’t leave things to the last minute? Whether it be the piled-up laundry that needs to be sussed or an important assignment due the following week, I stretch out my ‘carefree’ leisure time as much as possible to avoid the troubles my duties bring.
Call it ‘living-in-the-moment’ if you will, but honestly, this is just a toxic habit. I do not know when it started, but what I know for certain is that it looks like it is getting worse.
It used to be simple worksheets when I was little. Numbers frustrated me and difficult reading comprehension questions drained every ounce of energy I had, so counting the days until the due date for every worksheet I was given, was a must.
I thought it would get better as time passed, but boy, was I wrong. Presentations, big assignments, tests and even studying for the final exams were all pushed further and further away until they were at the edge of the ‘D-Day cliff’. Panicking, I belatedly tried to pull them from falling, but time weighed a tonne and I never won in the tug-of-war.
Pulling an all-nighter with a heart racing wild and a brain racing wilder is one of the craziest (in a bad way, of course) things you can do. But swearing that you would never, ever let yourself let this happen again, only to quickly slide the other pending duty for the morrow, is even crazier.
Sometimes, I would be lucky, getting an A despite my absurdity, but other times, I wasn’t so lucky at all.
I guess I never learn my lesson. Perhaps it’s the insane amount of caffeine I fill myself with at the break of dawn that I get my bizarre thrill in or the hours of extreme concentration under the greatest pressure I have become addicted to.
But I know better. This is a habit that makes me feel weak, discouraged, and hateful towards myself. It is very rare to be proud of my work at the end of the weary hours. Rather, I often find myself to have better ideas than I expected but run out of time to fully develop them or be too exhausted to even think. “If only I had one more day…”, I would mutter, with noxious regret eating me out. It is ridiculously ironic how tireless I am in this tiring practice.
The worst part is that this habit is now spreading itself out, breaking its old walls of chores and responsibilities. It seems to have entered into all other parts of my life, including my faith.
Morning prayers would be retitled to ‘bedtime prayers’, only to be transformed into ‘utterances under the duvet’. Bible reading would be rescheduled to tomorrow, only to be postponed to the unknown ‘one day’.
The problem lied in the heart of pride. James chapter 4, verses 13 and 14 says: “Come now, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business, and make a profit. You do not even know what will happen tomorrow! What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes”.
Here I was, thinking about the unpromised ‘tomorrow’, when I truly may stand in front of the great Judge tonight, or the next hour, or the next minute.
Who was I to think I would have another day to pray? How well do I know this?
Yet, the merciful God allows me this moment to reflect, repent and reschedule. Though I am tired of myself, His love is tireless. The Cross is incredible because it saved this ridiculous, repetitive, ruined me.
So, today, rather than push away, I want to pull in closer.
Let me prepare my tea. Jesus is coming soon.
Sunny is as a weak as a broken reed, a flickering candle. But Abba God shows His abundant mercy again and again by incredibly loving this hopeless being. Soli deo Gloria.