I keep catching myself walking into places with my to do list in hand without noticing anything — not the room, not the people, but straight as if i was on a mission.
Usually, I only realize it when a friend says, “Uh… you didn’t greet me.”

And I realize: I was moving, but I wasn’t there.
My feet were in transit. My heart was on autopilot.
And the person beside me? Invisible.

We live in a world where “busy” is a badge of honor.
Emails ping. To-do lists grow. Calendars bulge.
We’ll scroll for hours — but can’t spare ten minutes to talk to the person next to us?

“Sorry, I’ve got a meeting.”
“Can’t, I’m on a deadline.”
“I’ll do it later.”

But later rarely arrives.

It Hit Me While Traveling

Somewhere between beaches, sunsets, and all the chaos I’ve wandered into on my trips (remember Africa? Or Australia, where I basically lived underwater?) — I noticed a pattern.

On that quiet coast, where the WiFi was spotty and the ocean was loud, something ancient stirred in me:
Life is more than productivity.

That’s where the “business-woman, cattle rancher, overthinker” in me finally got quiet, and the traveler version of me showed up.

Not to podcasts.
Not to playlists.
Not to notifications.

But to the sound of waves.
To a taxi driver sharing his story in broken English.
To the old woman selling fruit who made eye contact before the sale.

Jesus walked this way.
He didn’t show up in a palace with a schedule full of breakthroughs.
He wandered roads.
He stopped.
He listened.
He touched.
He saw people other people skipped.

And I thought:
If He could be present in the middle of human mess…
maybe I can slow down enough to see someone too.

When My Phone Becomes the Loudest Voice.

I’m not saying ditch your phone (I would be lying).
But I am saying: being connected is not the same as being present.

Because the world whispers:
Scroll faster.
Do more.
Be stronger.
Look perfect.

And the screen whispers back:
You’re not enough.
Not productive enough. Not beautiful enough. Not fast enough.

But Jesus?
He didn’t fix things with a swipe or a click.
He sat with a woman at a well.
He ate with people who didn’t know their worth.
He waited for fishermen to pull in their nets.

He showed me this:
Presence matters.
Conversations matter.
Touch matters.
Coffee-table talks with no rush matter.

Those slow, ordinary moments?
They’re the ones that change us.

A Role Model Who Lives This Out

And then there’s my sister-in-law — one of my quiet role models.
If anyone has the “busy schedule” excuse, it’s her:
three kids, a husband, a home, and another baby on the way.

But she notices people.
Really notices.

She’s the type who’ll put together a little bag of goodies for someone sick or newly pregnant — even when her own day is bursting at the seams.

She did it once for me.
A tiny gesture she probably doesn’t even remember…

But I do.
It moved me more than she knows.

She opens her home for families at church who need a place to breathe.
She helps at events without announcing it.
She goes the extra mile — quietly, without applause, without Instagram stories.

And not because she has endless energy, or because she’s some kind of superhuman.
It’s God’s grace.

She lets God’s grace and love work through her — to serve, to notice, to love in ways that Jesus taught us.
Through His grace she gives something that, nowadays, feels rare and expensive:
time and love.

Sometimes I watch her and think:
That’s what “being present” looks like in real human form.

I Have a Confession

I’m the queen of the to-do list.
Few things feel better than checking boxes — meeting done, email sent, goal met.
But somewhere between all that doing, I started missing what was right in front of me.

Through my travels — and through people like my sister-in-law and my mom — Jesus has been teaching me something different:
That the most important moments aren’t always the ones I plan, but the ones I notice.

I’m still learning to slow down.
To be okay with an unfinished list if it means being fully present with someone.
Because productivity isn’t the same as purpose.

Jesus stopped for people others walked past.
As His follower, I want to learn from that — to pause, to notice, to show up.

What This Looks Like (In Real Life)

Here are a few ways I’m trying — trying, key word — to slow down and actually see people again:

• Leave my phone in my purse sometimes.
When I’m at a café or with friends, I try to actually… be with them.

• Bring something small.
Cookies don’t fix the world, but they soften it.

• Ask “How are you?” questions —
and then really listen to the answer.

It’s not glamorous.
It’s not a ministry.
It’s just… human.

What If I Mess Up?

Spoiler: I will.
I’ll forget.
I’ll rush.
I’ll choose WiFi over whispering.
I’ll scroll instead of noticing.

But Jesus doesn’t give up on me.
He didn’t wait for me to be perfect before showing up for me.

And maybe that’s the biggest lesson:
We don’t have to have it all together to show up.
Just being there — that’s what matters.

Final Thought

Let’s stop pretending that busyness equals purpose.
Let’s stop glorifying schedules.
Let’s stop scrolling so much that we don’t see.

Put your phone down.
Look someone in the eye.
Say hi.
Bring cookies.
Sit. Listen. Laugh. Cry maybe.
Be human.

Because when the King of the universe traded His throne for a stable,
He showed us exactly how love looks.

If He can slow down enough to show up for us,
we can slow down enough to show up for someone else.

Being human can be messy, connected, unhurried —

But time is the most wonderful thing you can give people.
and maybe that’s the most beautiful way to live.