returning to slowness
The state of New Jersey gets a bad rap. I don’t know what it is, but every time someone discovered we were moving to New Jersey, we would be met with the same concern and disgust, “Jersey???” It was as if people felt sorry for us. I blame MTV’s Jersey Shore. Thanks Snooki! Contrary to popular belief, there is more to New Jersey than big city, over-tanned meat heads, and loudness (people and traffic). A lot more.
For starters, North Jersey and South Jersey are like two separate planets. North Jersey is hustle, bustle, and “get outta my way.” It’s NYC culture and attitude. South Jersey is farmland, vineyards, cows, and trees. And “get outta my way” shows up here and there as well. Our experience in New Jersey transcended the stereotypes and we learned that beyond the hard exterior shell of some of the locals, they are extremely loyal and love deeply.
We recently returned to New Jersey for the first time since moving back to the Midwest in 2021. My wife, Taylor, our daughter, Kinsley, went back to our old stomping grounds to visit friends (and eat food). We reconnected with friends we hadn’t seen in over two years and tasted food we have only dreamed of since we moved away. Shoutout to the Mullica Hill Amish Market’s donuts and pretzel logs as well as Cream Valley Creamery’s ice cream, Chickie and Pete’s fries, La Scala’s ricotta honey dip, and Playa Bowl’s acai bowls. (Now, I’m hungry…)
We decided to bring Kinsley because she talks about “Jersey” constantly and so many of our dearest memories with her are from our time there. The trip was a surprise for Kinsley and we didn’t tell her where we were at until we pulled up to our old house. It was a special moment.
While we were there, we found ourselves doing many of the things we did when we lived there. We visited “our park.” We attended our church. We drove past our friend’s old houses. We ate at our favorite restaurants. We hung out at our Barnes and Noble. What we were most excited about on the trip was simply doing the ordinary things we did when we lived there. Our life in New Jersey was very ordinary. It was very simple. Five months into our move, we excitedly welcomed our son, Summit, and one month later, we not so willingly welcomed Covid-19. We knew moving across the country with a young family was going to be life-changing, we just didn’t know how deep it would go.
In a part of the country that most people associate with hustle, bustle, and fast-paced living, our time on the east coast can be summarized as a season of slowness. Moving from a season in which we experienced an abundance of relationships and opportunities, we entered a season of slowness, simplicity, and mundane. We had a close inner circle and some of the best friends we have there today were our next-door neighbors.
In the slowness, we discovered new healthy rhythms for family and our marriage. In the slowness, I entered a spacious place in which I discovered a new level of intimacy with Jesus and uncovered new dreams and desires. In the slowness, I found healing for my soul. In the slowness, I rekindled my love for reading. In the slowness, I learned the value of shutting off my phone and being present where my feet were. In the slowness, our hearts were awakened by the adventure of building deep relationships with new friends, not out of ministry obligation, but out of meeting a real need in our lives. In the slowness, we took long walks, stopped to look at chickens, and wandered in the woods. In the slowness, we started over, and reset our values and our priorities.
It was not all easy. We experienced loneliness and longed for our family and friends. We battled the challenges of learning a new area and were met with a variety of unexpected financial and relational obstacles. We often confused the slowness for delay and dealt with our fair share of discouragement. But, in the slowness, God met us.
Reliving our mundane and ordinary life we had in New Jersey was an invitation to return to the slowness. Each nostalgic twist and turn of the country roads we remembered were a reminder of what God did in our lives during that season. Our season contributed to our slowness, but it doesn’t have to. You, too, can return to slowness. I can return to slowness. We can make decisions to declutter our lives and our calendars, ultimately creating more space to see God afresh and become more present to the moment.
Right now, I encourage you to take inventory of your life. Do you feel that you are present in each moment? Are you fully engaged in your marriage, your family, your friendships, your faith community, and your work? Are you attentive, available, and aware of what God is doing? Or are you distracted, rushed, hurried, and disoriented? Perhaps you’d even admit to being out of control. I’ve been there, and let me tell you, I never want to go back there again. Without slowness, it is impossible to be present to your life. It’s difficult to be the spouse, parent, friend, and employee you are called to be. In the absence of slowness, creativity is joked out. Ultimately, without slowness, we starve ourselves of the intimacy with Jesus we need to flourish and thrive.
Slowness is a pre-requisite for the fruit of the spirit to develop in your life. Hurry and love are incompatible. Pastor and author John Ortberg said, “I cannot live in the kingdom of God with a hurried soul.” I have found that to be true. Hurry kills relationships, joy, gratitude, appreciation, and all we hold dear.
Our trip to New Jersey was an invitation to return to slowness. This is yours.
Find ways, even today, to slow down and come back to the moment. Look at your calendar for the next few days and evaluate in what ways you have become responsible for the drift into hurry. Make the difficult decision to cancel plans. Prioritize gathering with fellow believers - get yourself and your family to church - and fight for the space and time it takes to develop intimacy with God and those you are closest to.
Here are 8 practical ways you can return to slowness:
Take a long walk (with nowhere to go).
Take breaks from your phone (Turn it off during set times and “parent” your phone).
Connect with a friend for a cup of coffee.
Drive the speed limit and choose the slowest checkout line at the store.
Carve out time to do something you love doing.
Journal.
Simplify your life and your schedule. (Learn how to say no.)
Find a day to sleep in or take a nap (Parents: Get a babysitter if you need to!)
This is your invitation to return to slowness. To be present to God, to people, to the moment, and to your life. Even in a busy season, you can cultivate slowness. Make every effort to experience and enjoy as much of your life as you can.