YOU KNOW THE ROUTINE
Daniel Hope
I must admit, I’m a creature of habit. At times, it nearly takes an act of congress to get me out of my routine. Let me illustrate. Last night I leave our house to drop off a movie at Hollywood Video. I notice on the way there that my fuel gage is just about on empty, so I decide to get some gas while I’m out. After I drop off the movie I instinctively begin driving back home. It’s not until I arrive back at my house that I remember that I need gas. So I turn back around and head to the gas station.
This wouldn’t be so disturbing if it was an isolated incident. But it’s not. Ask Heather. She often asks me to stop someplace on our way home; but if that place is less than one mile from our house, I’ll drive right by it almost every time. It’s as though once I get within the one mile radius, my sub-conscious auto-pilot takes over the controls and leads me home. I suppose the case could be made that I’m simply absent-minded or forgetful. And while I can’t completely deny those charges, I believe that at least part of the reason this happens is that the routine is so ingrained in me: left off Germantown, first right, first left, the house is on the right. I’ve done it hundreds of times.
And I’m not the only one who has routines; we all do. Even Jesus routinely visited the Garden of Gethsemane during his public ministry (Jn. 18:1-2). Routines play a major role in our lives, and they serve a purpose. They save us time by giving structure to tasks and make us feel secure by giving consistency to our hectic lives.
But while routines can serve a purpose, we must be careful that we don’t wind up serving them. We must be their masters instead of their slaves. In other words, routines should benefit our lives, not become our lives. When the latter occurs, life is robbed of its excitement and becomes drudgery. If life seems like one big chore to you, then maybe you’ve allowed your routine to control you. Your routine has become a rut.
Unfortunately, routines can do more than hide life’s joy; they can also hide life’s opportunities. When used to focus our attention, routines are good. But they’re bad when they keep us from being attentive to life around us. Routines routinely disguise the extraordinary in the costume of the ordinary. Everything is nothing more than “just part of my daily routine.” How many opportunities do we miss on a daily basis simply because we are going through the motions of life, checking off task after task, with no thought of “making the most of every opportunity” (Eph. 5:16)? Coasting through life on auto-pilot doesn’t please God because God expects us to live intentionally.
Last night my car broke its routine and, as a result, now has a full tank. Maybe I can learn something (besides humility) from “ol’ red” after all.