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I will never be an opera singer. I enjoy singing, but I’ll never be able to belt it out onstage. My daughter loves running, but she will never be a sprinter. She has excellent endurance to compete in a cross-country race, but she doesn’t have “the kick” at the end. My husband does not have the skills to fix the problematic water pressure in our house. He has many other gifts and talents, but plumbing is not among them. There are times when each of us gets frustrated with our lack of ability in these three areas: I wish I could audition for that musical theatre production, but I don’t sing strongly enough. Why can’t I “kick” at the end to get second place in the race? Now I have to pay the plumber to fix the problem.

How do we navigate having some gifts and talents but not others? What happens when we reach our “limit” in a particular area? Are we able to accept that we aren’t able to do everything well? That we need to depend on others? Do we get frustrated with this? Anxious? Does it prompt us to try harder? Feel shame? Give up? Our Western culture promotes “self-esteem” and tells us we are capable of anything, but is that really true?

In actuality, we are created by God with limits. He did not create us to be able to do everything. We are finite beings, made to have limits. Yet, living “with” and “within” our limits can be challenging. We bounce between trying to push past our limits and not even trying to approach them. I have appreciated Kelly Kapic’s thinking about limits, specifically how to explore what happens when our relationship with time impacts our expectations for ourselves and what (or how much) we can achieve.

In his book, , Kelly Kapic argues that our finitude is a good gift from God. When we misunderstand that limits are part of God’s good design for us, we might question whether or not we are enough. This can spin us into unhealthy comparison with those around us, anxiety when we can’t “get it all done,” fear that we aren’t “good enough Christians,” and striving to control everything and everyone around us.

Kapic writes, “Does this dissatisfaction always mean that we have sinned, or is something else going on? Are we required to overcome these perceived shortcomings? Some treat these limitations as indicating a moral deficiency or as an obstacle in a competition that can and should be conquered” (Kapic, 10). We often respond by trying to manage ourselves by working harder, getting more organized or efficient, by getting up earlier to “get more done,” or by trying to change ourselves. However, Kapic argues that rather than having a time management problem, we actually have a theological and pastoral problem. We need to rediscover that being dependent creatures is actually a “constructive gift, not a deficiency” (Kapic, 10).

Kapic’s articulation of the significance of dependency – our dependency on God and others – struck such a chord with me that I decided to teach a college course called “The Good Design of Limits.” Over the last four years, my students and I dug into topics from the book. Does God really love me? Why doesn’t God instantly change me? Do I have enough time? My current favorite chapter is the one on time. Kapic challenges the reader to consider how our culture idolizes efficiency, organization, productivity, time management, and saving time. Where does that leave us? Stressed when we don’t “use” our time well, didn’t “save” time on a task, “ran out” of time in the day.

Too often, this stress turns into anxiety – when we are no longer able to live in the moment but instead are living in the future. My students relate to this and appreciate the way Kapic defines the difference between stress and anxiety. Kapic argues that stress can be necessary (131). For example, engineers need to put a design for a bridge under stress to discern if it is strong enough and safe enough. Anxiety occurs when we live under so much stress that we become paralyzed, unable to see our way through or around all the stressors in our lives. All the time in the world doesn’t seem to be enough. This can result in panic and despair—or worse. Anxiety makes us feel as though we are letting everyone down. Our limits feel like sin.

So, how can we keep from spinning into anxiety? How can we keep the stressors in our lives, which at times help us stretch, from growing into anxiety? Kapic offers several suggestions throughout his book. However, the one that resonates the most with me is the idea of being “present.” Presence, according to Kapic, is “being fully engaged with God and others in our immediate circumstances” (133).

Being present in the here and now takes intense practice. We are constantly thinking ahead about the next thing we need to do, checking our calendar, adding to our to do lists, making sure that we aren’t wasting time. At the heart of presence, according to Kapic, is the “fear of the Lord” (137). It doesn’t necessarily mean that we are literally scared (although sometimes it might). Instead, it means that we are keenly aware, in awe, of God all around us, in every aspect of our lives and His world.

This means stopping our relentless looking ahead to be still. To see. To hear. To touch. To take time to rest in the fear of the Lord. To see our extraordinary God in the ordinary moments of each day. I challenge my students to incorporate two Spiritual Disciplines in their lives during the second half of our semester together. These Spiritual Disciplines encourage a reframing of the ordinary through time spent in study, silence, fasting, corporate worship, or celebration. Together, we stop and wait on the Lord to fill us with His presence.