Not Available at the Moment

“How are you?”

“Good. Busy.”

If you asked ten people that question today, I’d bet at least eight of them would answer some version of that. Busy has basically become our personality trait. "How are you?" "Busy." "What have you been up to?" "Oh, you know... busy." We say it so often you'd think it was printed on our driver's licenses.

We say it almost without thinking. Sometimes it’s an apology. Sometimes it’s a complaint. And if we’re being honest, sometimes it’s a humblebrag. Sometimes we kind of hope people are impressed. Somewhere along the way "I'm slammed" became another way of saying, "See? I matter."

A few days ago I was doing the New York Times crossword, and one clue completely distracted me from finishing the puzzle. It asked for a four-letter word meaning not available at the moment.

The answer was busy.

Not available.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Later, I looked up the word “busy,” and I found something interesting. Yes, it can simply mean occupied or working. Someone is busy cooking dinner or busy finishing a project. It can describe a street packed with traffic or a season of life with a lot happening.

But that’s not all it means.

Busy can also describe something that is cluttered with too many details—ornate, fussy, distracting, lacking harmony. Designers use the word when a room has too much going on or wallpaper is so full of patterns that your eyes don’t know where to land. A phone line is busy because another conversation is already occupying it. The word can even describe someone who meddles in everyone else’s business instead of tending to their own.

The more I read those definitions, the more uncomfortable I became. Because they don’t just describe our schedules. They describe our hearts.

Many of us aren’t simply occupied. We’re cluttered. Our minds bounce from notifications to emails to errands to Instagram to text messages to Amazon carts to podcasts to news headlines, all before lunch. Our attention is fractured into a hundred tiny pieces, and then we wonder why it’s hard to hear God’s voice.

That definition hit a little too close to home for me because my brain sometimes looks like thirty browser tabs open at once, two of them playing music, one frozen, and I have absolutely no idea where the sound is coming from.

We tell ourselves we’ll spend time with Him after we answer one more email, fold the laundry, finish the dishes, catch up on social media, watch one more episode, or clean up the kitchen. We tell ourselves we're going to check Instagram for five minutes, and somehow we emerge forty-three reels later knowing how to organize a pantry we'll never have, the morning routine of a stranger in Nebraska, and the life story of a golden retriever named Kevin. And then the day is over.

The problem isn’t necessarily that our calendars are full. The problem is that we’ve become unavailable.

Jesus paints this picture beautifully in Luke 10. Martha welcomes Jesus into her home and immediately gets to work serving Him. Hospitality wasn’t the problem. Serving wasn’t the problem. In fact, those were good things.

But while Martha was occupied with preparing everything, Mary sat at Jesus’ feet and listened.

Eventually Martha reached her limit.

“Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” (Luke 10:40, NIV)

Jesus answered,

“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:41–42, NIV)

Notice what Jesus doesn’t say. He doesn’t rebuke Martha for working. He doesn’t tell her that serving is unimportant.

He points to her heart. He points out that her work somehow became more consuming than the relationship. I think we do this all the time.

Our culture has made busyness a virtue. It signals responsibility, ambition, productivity, and importance. We almost feel guilty admitting we have margin in our schedules, as though being rested is somehow irresponsible. If someone says they’re not busy, we tend to assume they’re not doing much.

But what if our constant busyness isn’t evidence of faithfulness? What if it’s evidence that we’ve forgotten how to be still?

Psalm 46:10 doesn’t say, “Accomplish more.”

It says,

“Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10, NIV)

Stillness has become deeply uncomfortable because we’ve trained ourselves to fill every quiet moment. We reach for our phones in grocery store lines. We listen to podcasts while driving. We scroll while waiting for our food. We watch television while folding laundry. We answer emails during commercials. Even our rest is filled with noise.

Maybe it’s time for a time audit. Not because every minute has to become “productive,” but because our time reveals what we value.

How much time do we spend on our phones every day? How much time disappears into social media, streaming shows, online shopping, sports, podcasts, gossip, doomscrolling, or endlessly refreshing our inboxes? None of those things are necessarily sinful. But they become spiritually dangerous when they consume the space where intimacy with God should grow.

Even good things can become idols.

Church events. Bible studies. Volunteer opportunities. Small groups. Serving on every ministry team. Leading every committee. Those are wonderful things—until they become substitutes for simply being with Jesus.

It’s entirely possible to spend every night at church and still neglect your relationship with Christ. Somewhere along the way some of us started confusing a color-coded church calendar with spiritual maturity.

Ministry activity is not the same thing as intimacy with God.

The Pharisees knew the Scriptures better than anyone, tithed faithfully, prayed publicly, and devoted their lives to religious activity. Yet Jesus still told them,

“These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.” (Matthew 15:8, NIV)

God has never been after the busiest disciple - He’s after our hearts.

Maybe the question isn’t, “Am I too busy?”

Maybe it’s, “Am I available?”

Available to notice His prompting. Available to sit quietly with Him. Available to love the people He’s placed in front of me instead of rushing to the next thing. Available to be interrupted. Available to obey.

We keep asking why we don't hear God, but if someone tried to have a conversation with us while we were simultaneously answering emails, watching Netflix, folding laundry, and checking Instagram, we'd probably miss most of what they said too.

So maybe the problem isn’t necessarily that we are “busy,” but that we have allowed business to make us unavailable. We don’t miss fellowship with God because He stopped speaking. But because every time He knocks, our spiritual voicemail says, “Sorry, I’m busy. Please leave a message after the next episode.”

I did eventually finish the crossword if you were wondering. But that silly little clue to number 47 across stuck with me.

Busy: Not available at the moment.

I don’t know about you, but I don't want that to become the definition of my life.

bytaylormcgee