What if the thing you gave up this Lent wasn’t sugar, coffee, or social media—but busyness?
Lent is often associated with giving up something we enjoy—chocolate, certain comforts, small indulgences we’ve grown attached to. But the true purpose of Lent is not simply deprivation—it is invitation: the intentional removal of whatever competes for our attention so we can make room for deeper communion with God.
Many of us don’t even recognize how addicted we’ve become to movement. Our calendars are full, our phones are constantly buzzing, and our minds are racing from one responsibility to the next. Even in moments meant for rest, we scroll. We plan. We prepare. We worry about tomorrow.
We wear exhaustion like a badge of honor. Productivity has become proof that we matter. And if we’re honest, the idea of slowing down feels more unsettling than giving up sugar ever could.
For many of us, the thing competing most for our attention isn’t dessert—it’s distraction and hurry—the constant drive to stay productive and relevant.
This is why busyness may be the most essential thing to surrender this Lent.
It may sound strange to “give up” busyness. After all, busyness feels necessary. Responsible. Even admirable. But if we loosen our grip on the endless hustle of our lives, we might create far more than a temporary gap—space for God to transform us in ways we didn’t realize we needed.
Busyness Is Not Purpose
We have become obsessed with filling our lives with tasks and activities to be productive and leave a lasting mark on the world. We crave purpose—even if we wouldn’t articulate it that way—so we overload our calendars, hoping that busyness will translate into meaning.
I know this because it has been an ongoing struggle in my own life. God has gently exposed how easily I equate activity with impact. If I’m doing more, I must be fulfilling my purpose. If I’m needed everywhere, I must be valuable. But Scripture challenges that assumption. As Proverbs would say, this is folly.
Jesus offers a different perspective:
“If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake, you will save it” (Matthew 16:25, NLT).
We often interpret this verse in dramatic terms, but it also speaks to the quiet, everyday posture of our hearts. Christ has already given us purpose, yet we live as if it’s ours to manufacture. Our culture has quietly conditioned us to believe that impact equals importance—the more visible we are, the more necessary we must be. Yet Scripture never equates frantic activity with faithfulness. Jesus withdrew to pray. He did not meet every demand placed on Him. He moved at the pace of obedience, not urgency.
Busyness convinces us that everything is essential. Surrender reminds us that not everything is assigned. Some things are simply distractions dressed up as duty.
When we strive to secure purpose on our own terms, we wind up exhausted and depleted. But when we seek Jesus first, our purpose is no longer something we scramble to construct—it unfolds as we abide in Him.
“Seek the Kingdom of God above all else…” (Matthew 6:33, NLT).
To seek means to pursue intentionally. The Kingdom of God is His rule and authority in our lives. Instead of chasing purpose, we are invited to seek the King.
How to Surrender Your Busyness
What would it look like to shift our energy this Lent from relentless activity to intentional seeking?
It would likely look unfamiliar. Maybe even uncomfortable.
The first step is surprisingly simple: sit down with God.
Grab a notebook and write out what a typical day looks like. Where does most of your time go? What commitments fill your schedule? Be honest and unhurried as you assess your list.
The essence of surrender is trust. When we slow down long enough to evaluate our lives before the Lord, we are declaring that we believe He is capable of leading us wisely. The world will not spin off its axis because we paused. In fact, our awareness of God’s sovereignty may become clearer than ever.
Sometimes surrender looks like intentional stillness. Other times, allow yourself to be interrupted. I have watched God prove repeatedly that what felt urgent was not. At the end of the day, everything that truly needed to be done was accomplished—and sometimes the things left undone were the very things I never needed to carry in the first place.
Once you’ve prayerfully examined your schedule, present it to the Lord. Ask Him what needs to be removed, rearranged, or reprioritized.
Many of our activities are good. Some are even kingdom-building. But they may not be what God is asking of us in this particular season. Faithfulness is not measured by how much we can fit into a calendar. It is measured by obedience.
God is deeply aware of our limitations. He does not call us to burnout. He calls us to abide.
As you allow Him to refine your commitments, be intentional about leaving space—real, protected time to connect with Him daily. Not rushed minutes squeezed between obligations, but meaningful moments of communion.
What Replaces the Busyness?
When we loosen our grip on relentless productivity, something beautiful fills the gap: delight.
“Take delight in the LORD, and he will give you your heart’s desires. Commit everything you do to the LORD. Trust him, and he will help you” (Psalm 37:4–5, NLT).
Delighting in the Lord is more than a pleasant emotion. It is intentional enjoyment of who He is. It is meditation on His character. It is remembering what He has done.
One of my favorite reminders of God’s creativity and care is found in nature. Stepping outside, observing the detail in every living thing, and recognizing His intentional design centers my soul. It reminds me that the God who crafted the world with such beauty is more than capable of ordering my life without my frantic interference.
In many ways, Lent is an invitation back to the garden—a return to walking with God instead of running ahead of Him.
We were not created to live on the exhausting merry-go-round of self-imposed urgency. We were made for communion. For trust. For delight. In Genesis, before sin fractured the world, humanity walked with God in the cool of the day. There was no striving for worth. No frantic proving. No overloaded schedules. There was simply presence.
While Lent does not transport us back to Eden, it offers a taste of restored intimacy. When we intentionally quiet the noise, we remember that God does not need our hustle. He desires our hearts.
Slowing down is not laziness. It is an act of trust. It declares that God is sovereign—fully capable of handling what we release—and gracious enough to meet us in the stillness.
This Lent, consider surrendering busyness. Trust that you have permission to slow down. Trust that seeking Jesus is not wasted time. The world will keep moving at its frantic pace, but your soul does not have to. Trust that when you make room for Him, He will accomplish far more than your busyness ever could.
Photo credit: Unsplash/Dingzeyu Li
Vanessa Luu is a wife, mother, and faith-based writer. She speaks and writes to believers to encourage them to live authentically with God.
