Singleness of heart
I sense Lizzie's presence beckoning me away from the only socially acceptable
addiction of our time: workaholism. She asks me to stop and look at what I am doing,
at why I am so busy, at who I am and what it is that keeps me so mindlessly driven and
competitive. It is not hard work that she questions, for she knows all too well the value
of labor, but she invites me into awareness and honest self-scrutiny. Perhaps it is
because I have chosen to live with a divided heart that the idolatry of being busy has
claimed me. Perhaps it is Lizzie's faithful attention to what matters most – her focused,
un-fussy attentiveness – that makes me
think of her as I ponder the meaning of
singleness of heart.