Have you ever wished for a thirty-hour day?  Surely this extra time would relieve the tremendous pressure under which we live. Our lives leave a trail of unfinished tasks. Unanswered let­ters, unvisited friends, unwritten articles, and unread books haunt quiet moments when we stop to evaluate. We desperately need relief.

But would a thirty-hour day really solve the problem? Wouldn’t we soon be just as frustrated as we are now with our twenty-four allotment? A mother’s work is never finished, and neither is that of any student, teacher, minister, or anyone else we know. Nor will the passage of time help us catch up. Children grow in number and age to require more of our time. Greater experience in profession and church brings more exacting assignments. So we find ourselves working more and enjoying it less.


When we stop to evaluate, we realize that our dilemma goes deeper than shortage of time; it is basically the problem of priorities. Hard work does not hurt us. We all know what it is to go full speed for long hours, totally involved in an impor­tant task. The resulting weariness is matched by a sense of achievement and joy. Not hard work, but doubt and mis­giving produce anxiety as we review a month or year and become oppressed by the pile of unfinished tasks. We sense un­easily that we may have failed to do the important. The winds of other people’s demands have driven us onto a reef of frustration. We confess, quite apart from our sins, “We have left undone those things which we ought to have done; and we have done those things which we ought not to have done.”

Several years ago an experienced cot­ton mill manager said to me, “Your greatest danger is letting the urgent things crowd out the important.” He didn’t realize how hard his maxim hit. It often returns to haunt and rebuke me by raising the critical problem of priorities.

We live in constant tension between the urgent and the important. The prob­lem is that the important task seldom must be done today or even this week. Extra hours of prayer and Bible study, a visit with that non-Christian friend, care­ful study of an important book: these projects can wait. But the urgent tasks call for instant action – endless demands pressure every hour and day.

A man’s home is no longer his castle; it is no longer a place away from urgent tasks because the telephone breaches the walls with imperious demands. The mo­mentary appeal of these tasks seems irre­sistible and important, and they devour our energy. But in the light of time’s per­spective their deceptive prominence fades; with a sense of loss we recall the impor­tant task pushed aside. We realize we’ve become slaves to the tyranny of the ur­gent.


Is there any escape from this pattern of living? The answer lies in the life of our Lord. On the night before He died, Jesus made an astonishing claim. In the great prayer of John 17 He said, “I have finished the work which You gave Me to do” (vs. 4).

How could Jesus use the word fin­ished? His three-year ministry seemed all too short. A prostitute at Simon’s banquet had found forgiveness and a new life, but many others still walked the street with­out forgiveness and a new life. For every ten withered muscles that had flexed into health, a hundred remained impotent. Yet on that last night, with many useful tasks undone and urgent human needs unmet, the Lord had peace; He knew He had fin­ished God’s work.

The Gospel records show that Jesus worked hard. After describing a busy day Mark writes, “That evening, at sundown, they brought to Him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered together about the door. And He healed many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons” (1:32-34, RSV).

On another occasion the demand of the ill and maimed caused Him to miss sup­per and to work so late that His disciples thought He was beside Himself (Mk. 3:21). One day after a strenuous teaching session, Jesus and His disciples went out in a boat. Even a storm didn’t awaken Him (Mk. 4:37-38). What a picture of ex­haustion.

Yet His life was never feverish; He had time for people. He could spend hours talking to one person, such as the Samar­itan woman at the well. His life showed a wonderful balance, a sense of timing. When His brothers wanted Him to go to Judea, He replied, “My time has not yet come” (Jn. 7:6). Jesus did not ruin His gifts by haste. In The Discipline and Culture of the Spiritual Life, A.E. Whiteham observes: “Here in this Man is adequate purpose … inward rest, that gives an air of leisure to His crowded life: above all there is in this Man a secret and a power of dealing with the waste-products of life, the waste of pain, disappointment, en­mity, death – turning to divine uses the abuses of man, transforming arid places of pain to fruitfulness, triumphing at last in death, and making a short life of thirty years or so, abruptly cut off, to be a ‘fin­ished’ life. We cannot admire the poise and beauty of this human life, and then ignore the things that made it.”


What was the secret of Jesus’ work? We find a clue following Mark’s account of Jesus’ busy day. Mark observes that “in the morning, a great while before day, He rose and went out to a lonely place, and there He prayed” (Mk. 1:35, RSV). Here is the secret of Jesus’ life and work for God: He prayerfully waited for His Father’s in­structions and for the strength to follow them. Jesus had no divinely-drawn blueprint; He discerned the Father’s will day by day in a life of prayer. By this means He warded off the urgent and ac­complished the important.

Lazarus’s death illustrates this princi­ple. What could have been more impor­tant than the urgent message from Mary and Martha, “Lord, he whom You love is ill” (Jn. 11:3, RSV)? John records the Lord’s response in these paradoxical words: “Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So when He heard that he was ill, He stayed two days longer in the place where He was” (vv. 5-6). What was the urgent need? Obviously to prevent the death of this beloved brother. But the important thing from God’s point of view was to raise Lazarus from the dead. So Lazarus was allowed to die. Later Jesus revived him as a sign of His magnif­icent claim, “I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in Me though he die, yet shall he live” (vs. 25).

We may wonder why our Lord’s min­istry was so short, why it could not have lasted another five or ten years, why so many wretched sufferers were left in their misery. Scripture gives no answer to these questions, and we leave them in the mys­tery of God’s purposes. But we do know that Jesus’ prayerful waiting for God’s in­structions freed Him from the tyranny of the urgent. It gave Him a sense of direc­tion, set a steady pace, and enabled Him to do every task God assigned. And on the last night He could say, “I have finished the work which You gave Me to do.”


Freedom from the tyranny of the urgent is found in the example and promise of our Lord. At the end of a vigorous debate with the Pharisees in Jerusalem, Jesus said to those who believed in Him: “If you continue in My Word, you are truly My disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.”

Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin … So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed” (Jn. 8:31-36).

Many of us have experienced Christ’s deliverance from the penalty of sin. Are we letting Him free us from the tyranny of the urgent? He points the way: “If you continue in My Word.” This is the way to freedom. Through prayerful meditation on God’s Word we gain His perspective.

P.T. Forsyth once said, “The worst sin is prayerlessness.” We usually think of murder, adultery, or theft as among the worst. But the root of all sin is self-sufficiency – independence from God. When we fail to wait prayerfully for God’s guid­ance and strength we are saying, with our actions if not our lips, that we do not need Him. How much of our service is charac­terized by “going it alone”?

The opposite of such independence is prayer in which we acknowledge our need of God’s instruction and supply. Concern­ing a dependent relationship with God, Donald Baillie says: “Jesus lived His life in complete dependence upon God, as we all ought to live our lives. But such depen­dence does not destroy human personal­ity. Man is never so truly and fully personal as when he is living in complete dependence upon God. This is how personality comes into its own. This is humanity at its most personal.” Prayerful waiting on God is indispensable to effec­tive service. Like the timeout in a football game, it enables us to catch our breath and fix new strategy. As we wait for direc­tions, the Lord frees us from the tyranny of the urgent. He shows us the truth about Himself, ourselves, and our tasks. He impresses on our minds the assign­ments He wants us to undertake. The need itself is not the call; the call must come from the God who knows our lim­itations. “The LORD pities those who fear Him. For He knows our frame; He re­members that we are dust” (Psa. 103:13, 14). It is not God who loads us until we bend or crack with an ulcer, nervous breakdown, heart attack, or stroke. These come from our inner compulsions cou­pled with the pressure of circumstances.


The modern businessman recognizes this principle of taking time out for evaluation. One president of DuPont said, “One minute spent in planning saves three or four minutes in execution.” Many sales­men have revolutionized their business and multiplied their profits by setting aside Friday afternoon to plan carefully the major activities for the coming week.

If an executive is too busy to stop and plan, he may find himself replaced by an­other man who takes time to plan. If the Christian is too busy to stop, take spiritual inventory, and receive his assignments from God, he becomes a slave to the tyranny of the urgent. He may work day and night to achieve much that seems significant to himself and others, but he will not finish the work God has for him to do.

A quiet time of meditation and prayer at the start of the day refocuses our rela­tionship with God. Recommit yourself to His will as you think of the hours that fol­low. In these unhurried moments list in order of priority the tasks to be done, tak­ing into account commitments already made. A competent general always draws up his battle plan before he engages the enemy; he does not postpone basic deci­sions until the firing starts. But he is also prepared to change his plans if an emer­gency demands it. So try to implement the plans you have made before the day’s battle against the clock begins. But be open to any emergency interruption or unexpected person who may call.

You may also find it necessary to resist the temptation to accept an engagement when the invitation first comes over the telephone. No matter how clear the cal­endar may look at the moment, ask for a day or two to pray for guidance before committing yourself. Surprisingly the en­gagement often appears less imperative after the pleading voice has become silent. If you can withstand the urgency of the initial moment, you will be in a better po­sition to weigh the cost and discern whether the task is God’s will for you.

In addition to your daily quiet time, set aside one hour a week for spiritual inven­tory. Write an evaluation of the past, record anything God may be teaching you, and plan objectives for the future. Also try to reserve most of one day each month for a similar inventory of longer range. Often you will fail. Ironically, the busier you get the more you need this time of inventory, but the less you seem to be able to take it. You become like the fanatic, who, when unsure of his direc­tion, doubles his speed. And frenetic ser­vice for God can become an escape from God. But when you prayerfully take in­ventory and plan your days, it provides fresh perspective on your work.


Over the years the greatest continuing struggle in the Christian life is the effort to make adequate time for daily waiting on God, weekly inventory, and monthly plan­ning. Since this time for receiving march­ing orders is so important, Satan will do everything he can to squeeze it out. Yet we know from experience that only by this means can we escape the tyranny of the urgent. This is how Jesus succeeded. He did not finish all the urgent tasks in Pales­tine or all the things He would have liked to do, but He did finish the work which God gave Him to do. The only alternative to frustration is to be sure that we are doing what God wants. Nothing substi­tutes for knowing that this day, this hour, in this place we are doing the will of the Father. Then and only then can we think of all the other unfinished tasks with equanimity and leave them with God.

Some time ago Simba bullets killed a young man, Dr. Paul Carlson. In the prov­idence of God his life’s work was finished. Most of us will live longer and die more quietly, but when the end comes, what could give us greater joy than being sure that we have finished the work God gave us to do? The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ makes this fulfillment possible. He has promised deliverance from sin and the power to serve God in the tasks of His choice. The way is clear. If we continue in the Word of our Lord, we are truly His dis­ciples. And He will free us from the tyr­anny of the urgent and free us to do the important, which is the will of God.

Charles E. Hummel, Discipleship Journal

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