“He said to them, ‘Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while’” (Mark 6:31).

The Trap of Busyness

I’ve worn busyness like a badge of honor. I’ve bragged about how little sleep I’ve had, how many gallons of coffee I thought I needed for simple survival, and how high on the stress scale I found myself on the regular.

For a season, if someone asked me how I was doing, I proudly responded “Good! Busy but good!” I told myself that I thrived under constant pressure and that doing everything and doing it well was just who I was.

Hesitant to carve out even a little time for holy rest or simple sleep, I kept chugging along until I simply couldn’t chug along any further. Then, like maybe you are all too familiar with, I exploded in a mess of exhaustion and emotion, the shrapnel of well-intended “yesses” and planner pages packed to the brim ricocheting over everything, including the people I love the most.

As a working mom, busyness seems synonymous with everyday life. Between project due dates and naptime schedules, it can sometimes feel like I’m barely treading water — especially during the holiday season, when everything is kicked up a couple of glitter-covered notches.

Preparation and Rest

But my busy heart has been longing for Advent for months now. After a year where every little thing has been a heavy discernment, I’ve been looking forward to this season that the Catholic Church dedicates to the paradoxical combination of preparation and rest. The Church encourages us to prepare our physical homes, lighting the shadows with the soft glow of pink and purple candles. But she also invites us to prepare our hearts, resting in the words of salvation history traced throughout four weeks of readings and meditations.

Preparation and rest: It seems like an impossible combination, especially considering the state of the world. It seems counterintuitive to rest in a season dedicated to preparation. And yet, while the world hums around us and the sound of jingle bells beckons us to dive into gift wrapping and tree trimming, Christ invites us to simply exist and abide with Him.

In typical fashion, I first looked at Advent and focused on all the things that there were to do. My family is old enough to enjoy some of the traditions Advent brings, like reading books about the coming of baby Jesus or remembering to set out shoes for the feast of St. Nicholas. I made long to-do lists about how this Advent would be the Advent to rival all other attempts at liturgical living I’d made in the past.

Yet there was no peace or rest in that preparation. It seemed like just another thing I had to do before November 29 rolled around. Even though the Advent books were stacked by the fireplace and the golden coins were hidden (mostly from me!) in the pantry, I still longed for the simple rest that my heart was so hungry for.

So, I stepped back — back from the possibility of adding a Jesse tree into the mix and back from the pressure to pick out the perfect activity every night to do as a family. And the further I stepped back from those expectations and perceived pressures, the more I realized that the only one who was binding up those burdens and loading them on my back was myself.

The Church doesn’t demand that I do all the things or accomplish all the projects. No, it was her voice that was reminding me of the holiness of the simple and the beauty of what occurs when the sacred mingles with the profane. Because that’s what we’re preparing for, waiting for, longing for: the coming of a Christ child who humbled himself to be born in a simple manger, sanctifying its wood with his very presence.

And while our hearts are hungry for rest, his heart is still hungry, and he is longing for a place to rest his head.

Will you come away and rest with him for a while? Will you leave behind the to-do list and abide with him this season?

Sisters, let’s arrive this year at Christmas morning not only prepared, but well-rested.

Chloe Langr is a Catholic wife, mom, and author living in the heart of the Midwest. She hosts “Letters to Women,” a podcast that explores what it means to live out the feminine genius in the everyday. A Catholic Book Award winner, Chloe is the author of several books, including “Created for Love: Reflections for the Catholic Bride-to-Be” and the forthcoming “Letters to Women: Embracinging the Feminine Genius in the Everyday." When she isn’t behind the podcast microphone, you can find her drinking espresso with her husband, Joseph, and reading board books with her two young daughters. You can visit her online at LetterstoWomenPodcast.com and on Instagram @letterstowomen_podcast.