A teacher friend recently let me borrow a copy of The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry by John Mark Comer, and it’s one of those books that calls for some action. The message is deceptively simple: hurry is not just a scheduling problem. It’s a spiritual one. And it’s hurting us more than we realize.
We live in a culture that celebrates speed. Faster internet. Quicker meals. More efficient everything. But in the middle of all that productivity, it’s easy to miss the point. The autor argues that hurry crowds out the things that matter most: presence, connection, rest, joy, attention.
Hurry can sometimes be one of my vices. I feel the pull of rush constantly. The full calendar. The unread emails. The sense that there is always more to do. This sense of “go, go, go” often keeps me from being the kind of person I want to be… a patient parent, a thoughtful leader, a present friend.
The practices that will push against this sense of hurry, according to Comer, are things like Sabbath. Silence. Simplicity. Slowing down not just to do less, but to live more deeply. He reminds us that Jesus didn’t hurry. He walked. He paused. He noticed people. He had room in his days for the unexpected.
That idea feels especially relevant in schools. When we’re racing through the day, when every bell marks a transition, when success is measured by how much we can cram in, we risk missing the actual people in front of us. The kid who needed an extra minute. The teacher who is clearly carrying something heavy. The chance to notice joy, pain, or growth.
So here’s what I’m trying: Solitude each morning, a more intentional Sabbath, and a lunch break where I sit down with family, friends, or colleagues.
These seem like small adjustments as I type them, but I think they will be quite challenging initially. Hopefully, they will soon become habits.