There is a question I’ve been thinking about lately that I believe all of us should probably ask ourselves more often. At the end of the day, what changed because I was here?

I don’t mean how much did I accomplish, how much money did I make, or how many things did I cross off my list. I mean something deeper than that. Did somebody’s life become a little better because our paths crossed today? Did I encourage someone? Did I serve someone? Did I invest in something that will matter long after today is gone?

I wish I could tell you that I wake up every morning thinking this way.

But, I don’t.

There are days when I’m incredibly intentional with my time, and there are other days when I look back and wonder where the day went. There are times when I’m disciplined with my faith, my health, my relationships, and the things I know matter most. Then there are seasons when I slowly drift away from some of those things and somehow still wonder why I don’t feel like myself.

The older I get, the more I’m beginning to recognize that pattern.

Some of my lowest days aren’t always the days when something terrible happened. Sometimes they’re simply the days when I stopped doing the things I already knew I needed to do.

I didn’t spend enough time with God. I stopped taking care of myself physically. I was present in the room with the people I love, but not really present with them. I took more than I gave. I allowed convenience to replace intentionality.

Then eventually I begin feeling empty and start looking around for something to blame. Maybe work is the problem. Maybe I need a break. Maybe I need something new. Maybe something around me needs to change.

And sometimes it does. But most of the time, I am what needs to change.

This realization has made me think a lot differently about purpose. I was reading recently when I came across a phrase I hadn’t heard before. “Transcendent summons.” I had to stop and think about it for a while. It’s essentially a purpose that reaches beyond our job, our organization, and even ourselves. The idea is that people tend to experience greater meaning in their work when they believe their lives are connected to something larger than the work itself.

As I thought about that, something started bothering me.

We talk a lot about organizations creating purpose for people. Leaders should help people understand why their work matters. We should create healthy cultures, meaningful work, and environments where people feel valued. I believe deeply in all of that.

But I started wondering if there’s another side to the conversation.

What if we’re sometimes asking our workplace to give us something we aren’t cultivating anywhere else in our lives?

That thought became even more real for me after a conversation we had with our team not too long ago. Many of our team members felt overworked. Some felt like their work had begun consuming their lives and that by the time they got home, they didn’t have much left to give.

I of course listened, and I took it very seriously.

My first thought was that maybe we’d allowed the workload to become too much without realizing it. If that was true, I wanted to know. So I went back several months and started pulling the actual hours our team members had worked.

I expected the numbers to confirm what I was hearing. I expected to find averages somewhere around fifty hours a week.

Instead, the average was around thirty-eight hours. Even the person with the highest average was only a little over forty-one.

I ran the numbers again because I thought I must’ve missed something. What I found didn’t convince me that anyone was wrong about feeling exhausted. It actually made me more curious.

If the exhaustion was real, and I believed it was, but the number of hours at work didn’t completely explain it, then what else was going on?

That question eventually came back around to me personally. What am I doing with the rest of my waking hours? Because I know what happens in my own life when I become undisciplined with the hours that nobody else controls.

We live in a world that makes it incredibly easy to lose those hours. We scroll for a few minutes that somehow turns into an hour. We watch another episode. We click another video. We stay up later than we should. None of those things are necessarily bad. There are nights when sitting on the couch and watching television with my wife is exactly where I need to be.

Rest matters.

But I’ve had to learn that rest and escape aren’t always the same thing. Rest gives something back to me. Escape usually just makes me forget for a little while what I was trying to avoid.

I think that’s part of what I’ve been missing when I think about discipline. For years, I probably thought of discipline mostly as a way to accomplish more. Wake up earlier. Work harder. Exercise. Read. Pray. Stay focused.

But I’m beginning to see discipline differently. The right disciplines keep me connected to the things that remind me who I am.

Time with God reconnects me to the One who gave me this life in the first place. Taking care of myself physically reminds me that even my body is something I’ve been entrusted with. Being intentional with my wife and family reminds me that my life is much bigger than whatever problem followed me home from work that day. Serving someone else gets me outside of myself.

When those things begin disappearing, I eventually feel the difference. And that brings me back to something I’ve truly come to believe and have said many times.

You cannot be two different people.

The person I’m becoming at home eventually walks into work with me, and the person I’m becoming at work eventually comes home. My habits come with me. My attitude comes with me. My gratitude comes with me. My frustration comes with me. My discipline comes with me.

So does my purpose.

I think that’s why I’ve started looking at time differently as I get older. Every morning that I wake up, God has entrusted me with another portion of my life.

I know that I didn’t earn today. I also know that I can’t save it for later. And when today is gone, I can’t buy it back.

We tend to measure our lives in years, but God gives them to us in days. One morning. One conversation. One dinner around the table. One opportunity to encourage somebody. One evening with someone we love.

A day doesn’t seem like much until we realize that an entire life is simply thousands of those days placed one after another. Maybe those hours in front of us aren’t really possessions at all. Maybe they’re stewardship.

And that changes the question for me. Instead of continually asking, “What do I want to do with my life?” I’m trying to ask, “What am I doing with the life I’ve been given?”

I don’t have that figured out. I still waste time. I still get distracted. I still allow myself to drift and then wonder why I feel disconnected. I still sometimes believe that the answer is somewhere else when God may be trying to show me that the first place I need to look is within myself.

But I’m trying to become more aware. Because purpose doesn’t necessarily make the load lighter. Sometimes purpose simply reminds us why the load is worth carrying and to keep on grinding.

And maybe that’s what many of us are really searching for.

Not an easier life. But understanding how to build a life that matters.

Practice To Cultivate

Sometime this week, take ten quiet minutes and think about what currently motivates you. Honestly write them down, then ask yourself are these “things” or “purposes” that motivate you?

Then look at your list without judging yourself.

What’s pulling you through your days.

After that, ask yourself another question that I’ve had to ask myself.

When I’m at my lowest, what disciplines have I usually stopped practicing?

Maybe it’s prayer. Maybe it’s exercise or sleep. Maybe you’ve stopped reading, creating, serving, spending meaningful time with your spouse, calling someone you love, or simply getting quiet long enough to listen.

Don’t use the answer to condemn yourself.

Use it to become aware.

Then tonight, before another day becomes yesterday, ask yourself one more question.

What changed today because I was here?

Maybe you loved your spouse well. Maybe you listened to your child. Maybe you encouraged a team member. Maybe you served a client. Maybe you kept your word when nobody would’ve known if you didn’t.

Maybe you planted something you’ll never live long enough to see grow.

Changing the world rarely happens in the giant moments we imagine. More often it happens through ordinary people faithfully using ordinary days for something greater than themselves.

We may never see how far the roots eventually travel. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t growing.

‘Well Rooted’ is a new column to the Great Bend Tribune written by Jeremy Elliott. Elliott owns a lawncare business and lives in the Great Bend area.