72 Tabs Open: Learning to Be Still in a Busy World

My husband groans every time he has to use my laptop.

Not because there's anything wrong with it.

Because I have approximately 72 tabs open at all times.

I'm not even exaggerating.

One tab is a recipe I might make someday. Another is a Bible study I'm working through. There are emails I need to answer, research for a writing project, a hotel reservation I need to confirm, and at least three tabs I opened so long ago I can't even remember why they're there.

The worst part?

I think my brain looks exactly the same.

At any given moment, I have dozens of tabs running in my mind.

A conversation I need to have.

A deadline I'm trying to meet.

A family member I'm praying for.

A text I forgot to answer.

A load of laundry sitting in the dryer.

A ministry project I need to finish.

A doctor's appointment I need to schedule.

And somehow all those thoughts seem to start talking at the exact same time.

Have you ever felt like that?

Like your mind is constantly running in the background and no matter how much you accomplish, you never seem to close enough tabs to feel caught up?

You finally crawl into bed exhausted, only to discover your body is tired but your brain is still wide awake.

The thoughts keep spinning.

The worries keep circling.

The mental tabs stay open.

And then I hear the gentle invitation of Scripture:

"Be still and know that I am God."
— Psalm 46:10

Those words sound beautiful.

But if I'm honest, they can also feel impossible.

Because stillness doesn't come naturally to me.

Maybe that's why I relate so much to Martha.

The Problem With a Martha Mind

When Jesus visited the home of Martha and Mary, Martha was doing what many of us would have been doing.

Preparing.

Serving.

Planning.

Managing.

Making sure everything was taken care of.

Meanwhile, Mary was sitting at Jesus' feet.

Martha finally reached her breaking point.

She marched up to Jesus and essentially said, "Lord, don't You care that I'm doing all the work by myself? Tell my sister to help me!"

And Jesus responded:

"Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things." (Luke 10:41)

I've always loved that Jesus says her name twice.

Not because He is annoyed.

Because He is compassionate.

It's almost as if He's saying, "Martha, slow down. Look at Me. Listen."

He knew exactly what was happening beneath the surface.

The anxiety.

The pressure.

The mental overload.

The endless list of things demanding her attention.

And then He gently reminded her that only one thing was truly necessary.

Mary had chosen it.

She had chosen His presence.

The One Thing We Need

I often imagine what happened next.

Maybe Martha finally exhaled.

Maybe she untied her apron.

Maybe she sat down beside her sister.

Maybe for the first time all day she stopped trying to manage everything and simply enjoyed being with Jesus.

Because knowing God requires something our busy culture rarely encourages:

our attention.

Not a hurried glance.

Not a distracted prayer while checking notifications.

Not squeezing Him into whatever scraps of time remain after everything else gets done.

But intentional stillness.

A willingness to sit at His feet and listen.

The Busyness Never Ends

When my children were little and only sixteen months apart, I used to tell myself life would eventually slow down.

Someday, I thought, I'll have more time.

Someday I'll be less busy.

Someday I'll finally get organized.

But here's what I've learned:

The busyness never disappears.

It just changes shape.

The toddler years become school schedules.

School schedules become ministry commitments.

Ministry commitments become family responsibilities, aging parents, work deadlines, travel plans, and countless other demands.

There will always be another tab trying to open itself in our minds.

Which means stillness doesn't happen accidentally.

We have to choose it.

Closing the Tabs

Our families need meals.

The laundry needs washing.

Emails need answering.

Responsibilities matter.

But when our lives become consumed by the endless list of things demanding our attention, we risk missing the One who can actually sustain us.

Jesus isn't asking us to ignore our responsibilities.

He's inviting us to stop carrying them alone.

To sit with Him.

To listen.

To remember who is really in control.

To close a few tabs and rest in His presence.

Because sometimes the most productive thing we can do is simply obey the invitation:

"Be still and know that I am God."