Here’s a thought that, for me, was revolutionary: Jesus doesn’t want your hustle. He wants your trust.

Cue brain explosions.

I am a person who has always had a loud schedule. I don’t like to say no or disappoint people, and I like to be viewed as reliable, productive, and efficient. I am an expectations-meeter, and my calendar has always been dictated by other people. My insides may whisper, “Say ‘no!’ This is too much!” but my default response is to squelch that little weakling, make her buckle down and get to work. My desire to outrun any possible accusations of “lazy” or “flaky” have led me to the verge of complete panic approximately a zillion times in my life. The pages of the planners I’ve owned have practically hemorrhaged inky scribbles and sticky notes, my colorful attempt to wrangle my life into order, to please everyone, to get everything done. It’s a shrill, neon scream: “THERE IS SO MUCH TO DO.”