Many years ago, I had the privilege to visit Africa for about a month. This trip was meant to be a much-needed change of scenery after an incredibly busy and stressful season. I had spent the last year juggling an ever-increasing number of balls: a masters degree, a part time job, volunteering, and training for a marathon. I had started the year full of dreams, ambition, and boundless energy, and ended up completely exhausted, overwhelmed, and discouraged. I remember arriving in the sweltering Zambian airport, surrounded by a million unfamiliar smells and sounds, my mind only focused on one goal: to figure out a way to get back on my feet as quickly as possible so I could come back home and resume juggling. Arriving in rural Zambia, my life felt like a Formula One car that had hit a wall while going around a blind corner, going from three hundred km per hour to a dead stop in the blink of an eye. I went from cramming every spare minute of the day with productivity to spending entire afternoons watching the village women prepare dinner around a fire, often sitting in companionable silence for minutes at a time.
As my external world slowed down to a crawl, my internal world felt increasingly chaotic. I felt lost and useless and had many moments of wrestling with God. I felt somehow betrayed that I had started all these activities with a desire to serve Him and was left high and dry, quite literally in the middle of nowhere. One hot dry afternoon, I took a walk with just my journal and my thoughts for company and sat down on a log looking over the Zambezi River. My eye was soon caught by a little beetle a few feet in front of me. The beetle itself was unremarkable, but amazingly it was pushing a pile of dung that must have been at least five times its size. After watching this impossible expedition for some time, I noticed something intriguing. Every few minutes the little beetle would stop and climb up to the top of the pile of dung. It paused and looked around as if getting its bearings, and then would climb down, adjust course slightly, and continue pushing. At the time, this little event deeply impacted me, and I recently reflected on it again as I chose “rest” as my focus word for 2025.
In the grind of life, what might it look like to incorporate regular moments of pausing and “climbing up the ball?” One rhythm that God introduced at the very beginning of time is weekly Sabbath rest (Exodus 31:13) What is the first thing that comes up when you read the word Sabbath? It might be a picture of Laura Ingalls sitting on a hard pew for a few hours and then solemnly walking home to partake in an afternoon of silent sacred reading. Or it might be the thought that a complete day off was a nice ideal for another time and economy. I have talked to friends over the years that have found inventive and beautiful ways to incorporate some sort of Sabbath into their week. For some it means an entire day off, and for others it is just a morning or afternoon. They have various views on what constitutes rest, including worship, prayer, reading a good book, coffee with a friend, napping, going for a long walk, painting, etc.
Another form of climbing up might be to take a moment every evening to reflect on the goodness of each day. For me this includes writing down little daily milestone moments from my girls and looking through videos and pictures I snapped during the day so I can absorb the beauty of their unique personalities. Or it might look like a nightly gratitude prayer, reflecting on the thousands of gifts God gave during the day that were infinitely more valuable than money or possessions.
Finally, climbing up might come in the form of a courageous and honest conversation with a therapist, mentor, or trusted friend. The kind that goes beyond light banter and surface small talk. The kind that invites brave exploration, loving challenge, and deep connection. What happens during these moments of pause? In my experience, I often end up re-evaluating both what is driving me, and what I truly value.
As a therapist, I picture a moment a teen comes into a session diagnosed with depression, holding a deep belief that she is unlovable, and struggling just to get out of bed every morning. We might spend some time exploring practical strategies to get her out of bed and involved in meaningful activities. And these things can certainly be valuable on their own. However, if we stop short of examining and challenging her belief that she is unlovable, she might re-engage in school, work, volunteering and social activities, becoming increasingly busy and trying to perform her way into becoming loveable, and eventually ending up in the same place of sadness and rejection. In other words, we could expend a wealth of energy constantly changing the direction of our dung balls but not discover true growth until we find the courage to climb to the top. In my Africa experience, it was not until I was at the end of my strength and resources that I first knew deep in my heart that when I was completely without strength Christ died for me (Romans 5:6) and that I was loved with a love beyond comprehension (Ephesians 3:19).
As a mom, I find that moments of pause also help refocus my heart on my core values. Parents can feel a tremendous amount of pressure to set up their kids for success by engaging in extra curricular programs and sports in addition to regular school. Although my daughters are young, there are already days that I feel like a hamster inside of an activity wheel, desperately trying to fit an impossible number of things into a day, resulting in me being dizzy and exhausted and the girls being overstimulated and overwhelmed. When I take time to reflect on the best moments of each day, I realize that they very often lie in quiet and insignificant times like reinventing an empty toilet roll, having a dance party after bath time, building a snowman, and cuddling before bed.
Thanks for joining me on my mini exploration of the dung beetle. Here is a video link for any fellow nerds who would like to see a visual:
