A life-giving to-do list is about more than getting things done. Learn to plan, discern, simplify, and steward your time and attention with grace.
The Life-Giving To-Do List: Plan, Discern, Simplify, Steward
Most of us know the feeling.
There are more things on the to-do list than there are hours in the day to do them.
The list grows. The hours don’t.
And sometimes the answer isn’t figuring out how to become more productive. Sometimes we need to stop and ask a different question:
What actually belongs on the list?
Plan
I like a list.
There is something satisfying about taking the swirling collection of things in my head and putting them somewhere I can see them. Appointments. Errands. Household tasks. Work. Phone calls. Things I don’t want to forget.
Sometimes I can forget the thing before I even get it written on the list. It’s a special talent. Yikes.
Planning gives those things a place. It can help us look at the week ahead and make a reasonable assessment of what might fit into it.
But I don’t think the purpose of a plan is to predict exactly how the week will unfold. Life has a way of introducing itself into even the best plans.
A plan should give us direction, not demand perfection.
Sometimes the plan simply tells us where to begin. Or reminds us of what we deemed important —> at least until it isn’t.
And before we begin adding more to the list, perhaps we should pause long enough to discern what belongs there.
Discern
This, I think, is where a to-do list can become something more than a list of things to accomplish.
Because not everything that could be done needs to be done.
Some things genuinely need our attention. Some are important but can wait. Some would be nice to accomplish. Some have been sitting on the list for so long that we aren’t even sure why they’re there anymore.
And some things may not belong to us at all.
It is surprisingly easy to put something on our list simply because we think we should do it.
We see someone else’s beautifully organized home and decide ours needs more attention.
We hear about someone else’s routine and wonder if we should be doing that, too.
We notice something we’ve neglected and immediately add it to the growing collection of things we need to fix.
Before long, the list is carrying not only our responsibilities but our expectations, comparisons, guilt, and imagined obligations.
Discernment asks us to slow down.
Does this actually need to be done?
Does it need to be done now?
Is this mine to do?
Does it matter in this season?
What happens if I don’t do it?
Am I doing this because it is necessary—or because I have convinced myself that I should?
These aren’t questions designed to help us avoid responsibility. They can actually help us recognize our responsibilities more clearly.
Discernment gives us permission to remove things from the list.
It’s kind of liberating to put a line through an item, as if you’re saying, “Not today.”
We can postpone something. Or just let it go.
Not everything deserves equal weight simply because it made its way onto a piece of paper.
Our attention is limited. Our time is limited. Our capacity is limited.
That means the list needs some discernment, too.
Simplify
And this is where I find myself returning again and again.
Simplifying is an ongoing struggle for me.
- I simplify.
- I clear things out.
- I make a little breathing room.
And then, somehow, I find myself six months—or sometimes six weeks—later having complicated things again.
I’ve added another obligation.
- Another project.
- Another commitment.
- Another thing to manage.
Commercialism certainly doesn’t help.
There is always something else to buy, improve, organize, upgrade, or add. We are constantly being invited to believe that our lives would be better if we just had one more thing.
Comparison doesn’t help either.
Someone else’s home is more organized. Someone else’s schedule seems more intentional. Someone else appears to have figured out a rhythm that makes everything look effortless. And suddenly the life we were perfectly content with yesterday doesn’t seem quite good enough today.
- So we add.
- We buy.
- We commit.
- We complicate.
Sometimes simplifying means removing something. Sometimes it means doing something less elaborately. Sometimes it means deciding that good enough really is good enough. And sometimes it means recognizing that the thing we thought would make life better has actually given us one more thing to maintain.
Maybe simplifying isn’t something we accomplish once.
Maybe it is something we practice. Again and again.
Steward
This is the part of the journey I am still learning.
I am learning that stewardship is different from simply getting things done.
It is not about squeezing every available minute out of a day or proving how much I can carry.
I don’t need to set myself on fire for the benefit of another.
It is learning to care well for what has been entrusted to me—my time, my home, my responsibilities, my resources, my relationships, and all those ordinary pieces of life that are easy to overlook because they aren’t particularly impressive.
That changes the way I think about a to-do list.
Perhaps the goal isn’t to create the most efficient list possible.
Perhaps it is to create a list that helps me care for the life I actually have.
A list that makes room for what is necessary without crowding out what is meaningful.
A list that remembers that rest matters, that relationships matter, and that sometimes preparing something today makes tomorrow gentler.
Not everything valuable can be measured by how quickly it gets crossed off.
A Little Grace for the Journey
Maybe a life-giving to-do list isn’t the one we finish.
Maybe it is the one that helps us remember what matters.
We will probably overcommit again.
We will probably complicate things again.
We will probably put something on the list that doesn’t belong there.
That’s okay.
We are fellow travelers.
- Learning.
- Adjusting.
- Returning to what matters.
- Planning a little better.
- Discerning a little more carefully.
- Simplifying where we can.
Stewarding what has been entrusted to us.
Not perfectly.
Not permanently.
Just with intention.
And, I hope, with a little more grace for ourselves along the way.