The great French naturalist Jean-Henri Fabre once conducted a fascinating experiment with processionary caterpillars, so called because they tend to march in unison. He lined them around the inner edge of a flowerpot and then monitored them carefully as they marched in a circle. At the end of the third day, he placed some pine needles, which is the favorite food of caterpillars, in the center of the pot. They continued walking for four more days without breaking rank. Finally, one at a time, they rolled over and died of starvation, just inches from their ideal food source.1
These furry little creatures remind me in some ways of today's moms. Most of them are trudging around in circles from morning to night, exhausted and harried, wondering how in the world they can get everything done. Many are employed full-time while also taking care of families, chauffeuring kids, fixing meals, cleaning the house, and trying desperately to maintain their marriages, friendships, family relationships, and spiritual commitments. It is a backbreaking load. Sadly, this overcommitted and breathless way of life, which I call "routine panic," characterizes the vast majority of people in Western nations.
Are you one of these harried women running in endless circles? Have you found yourself too busy to read a good book or take a long walk withyour spouse or hold your three-year-old child on your lap while telling him or her a story? Have you taken time to study God's Word—to commune with Him and listen to His gentle voice? Have you eliminated almost every meaningful activity in order to deal with the tyranny of a never-ending "to do" list? Have you ever asked yourself why in the world you have chosen to live like this? Perhaps so, but it is not an easy problem to solve. We live our lives as if we're on freight trains that are rumbling through town. We don't control the speed—or at least we think we don't—so our only option is to get off. Stepping from the train and taking life more slowly is very difficult. Old patterns die very hard indeed.
When was the last time you had friends drop by unexpectedly for a visit? For many of us it's been entirely too long. There was a time when families made a regular habit of packing into the car and driving over to a friend's home for an afternoon of good conversation and a piece of banana-cream pie. It was one of life's special little pleasures.
I'll never forget the times as a boy when I would hear a knock on the door and scurry to see who was there. The screen would crack open a few inches and a familiar voice would echo through the house, "Is anybody home?" Mom would rush to put on a pot of coffee and for the rest of the afternoon we'd sit and talk with our friends—about nothing and about everything. Finally, it came time for our friends to leave, and we'd hug them good-bye, encouraging everyone to come again sometime. Sadly, that kind of spontaneous camaraderie is difficult to achieve in today's fast-paced world. The pressures and busyness of life have all but destroyed the sense of community that was once common among families and friends. We seldom—if ever—drop in on friends unannounced. And even if we did, they would probably have to cancel a string of appointments in order to be with us. Thus, we go about our days, careening through life, glancing at our watches, and wondering why we don't have very many close friendships.
Shirley and I were blessed in recent years to live next door to an eighty-year-old lady named Jenny, whom we came to love. She saw our comings and goings and knew of our many pressures. Jenny told Shirley repeatedly, "Honey, don't forget to take time for friends and family. You know, it's important not to get too busy for people." She was lonely and was speaking from her own need. We did visit with her and enjoyed dinner together on occasions. Shirley "took tea" with her one afternoon and had a delightful conversation. But it was difficult to give her what she needed. We were traveling in the fast lane of a freeway, and Jenny was meandering down a country road at that stage of her life.
Jenny is gone now, but her words echo in our minds. Were our daily activities really more important in those years than taking time to love a special lady or reaching out to the many others whose paths we crossed? When I think in these terms, I want to disconnect—disengage, pull back from all the entanglements that weigh me down. I would give anything to go back twenty-five years and live another day with the two kids who graced our home. It would have been costly, of course, to have moved at a slower pace. I could not have built an organization called Focus on the Family, which I felt God had called me to do, or written some of the books that bear my name. Given all that was placed before us, we did a pretty good job of preserving our family life and getting into the world of our children. But as I reflect, I can't help but ask, "Could we have found a compromise that would have permitted Shirley and me to have done even better?" I wonder.
Book: Bringing Up Boys
By Dr. James Dobson