Wrestling with Balance in a Loud, Fast World.

In my young adulthood, I’ve found myself, on several occasions, spiraling over the concept of balance. It’s not a new idea, but it’s grown more complex as my responsibilities have grown and as I’ve observed the world around me a little closer. 

“Balance” for me is…a bit hard to put into words, but it touches nearly every aspect of life. It’s the tension between not doing enough and doing too much. Between level-headedness and a wholehearted investment. Between being present and preparing for the future. 

Sometimes, I think I should’ve been an anthropologist – I really enjoy studying people, watching their behavior, dissecting their reactions and uncovering the why behind their choices. And, as a seasoned people watcher, seeing the real-time consequences of people not investing in things that matter can be sobering. And a little scary, if I’m honest. 

I have a talent for analyzing things too. My mind loops through strategies like a broken record, consumed with “what ifs”, determined to find the best course of action, especially now in this “pivotal” season of life where everyone warns me, “The habits you build today will last a lifetime.” That advice almost always comes from someone older and seemingly regretful, which further instills the fear: Will I waste my life? 

So, balance – a concept that feels elusive, to say the least – has begun to feel increasingly more urgent to achieve as thirty draws near (you know, the age when apparently all my habits are cemented forever into place and my body begins its slow, tragic decline towards death). 

And yes, comparison complicates things. But not the “Do I have value?” comparison—it's the arguably much worse “Am I adulting correctly?” kind. In your 20s, everyone is on wildly different paths: some are single, married, childless, child-full, some traveling, career-building. No one really talks about how jarring that shift after graduation can be. 

I can hear the well-meaning voices already: “There is no one right path. It’s simply about where God wants you.” Yeah, yeah, I know. I suppose I should rephrase. Maybe it’s not so much the question of Am I adulting correctly? but Am I adulting wisely?

I don’t work out consistently. I’m young, but I’m not fit—and I feel it. I eat fairly well but still forget to drink water regularly. I pray and read Scripture often but forget to be the hands and feet of Jesus. Social connection has become increasingly more difficult. I’m still an extrovert but my social meter runs thinner, and I’ve grown more selective—still not sure if that’s wisdom or weariness. Marriage, while the greatest blessing, is also incredibly humbling. Not because loving my husband is hard (he makes that rather easy), but because it holds up a mirror I can’t avoid. And art—I love it deeply. I believe I’m meant to do something meaningful with it. But what counts as significant in the Kingdom looks so different from the world’s definition of success. Sometimes I’m not sure if I’m waiting faithfully or simply hiding behind fear. I hope this project is a step forward. 

Do you see where I’m finding myself? Trying to hold all this up – marriage, calling, friendships, health, work, dreams – within the same 24 hours? That’s where I get stuck. There’s so much to do, so much to be faithful with. But there’s not enough time to invest in all of it the way I feel I should and want to. It feels I’m constantly behind, playing catch up over the arguably  bare minimum of adulthood. Not to mention my plans to travel, to follow through with all my “10/10” teaching ideas, or building a self-sufficient art business. 

I feel so caught in the middle, unsure where to focus my time and attention – worried I’ll forgo my sunscreen routine and develop skin cancer, disappointed I’ll lose touch with a friend because I’m the absolute worst texter, terrified I’ll forget to slow down and become cynical with life at large. The pressure to remember everything while also making room for newer, healthier habits, has worn me down more than I’d like to admit. For what are supposed to be some of the “best years of my life”, I often feel rather strange and unsettled. 

But I’m trying to be present, take it day by day. But also trying to look ahead– because family, aging, and time do matter (and of course, that has a balance too—right?). Every choice seems to carry long-term weight. The pressure to use my time well, to “get it right” is heavy. And when it builds, I freeze. I shut down and retreat to social media—unsure what to think, where to stand, what decision to make – hoping if I find distraction long enough the problem will solve itself. 

But social media, while it takes up space in my brain (enough for the spiral to stop) only amplifies the noise. Confident, absolute opinions flood every scroll and on nearly every topic—nutrition, politics, health, theology—the voices shout over one another. What was “cutting-edge” research last week was an outdated myth this week. 

Even online, balance is rare to find – extremes dominate every corner. I’m either holy or homophobic. I’m either ignorant or a racist. I’m either supportive or uneducated. What happened to nuance? What happened to both/and? Can I care about national security and also grieve the stories of illegal immigrants? Must I choose between empathy and order? Can I deeply feel for single mothers and yet abhor the death of innocence? Can I bless those I disagree with deeply? Must we always draw lines, assign categories, adopt labels and self-righteously impose personal convictions? 

And so, I turn off the screens – not because I don’t care, but because I can’t carry it all.

In summary: life is a lot. 

I’m still figuring out what balance looks like in God’s terms. I don’t love the overly simplified, well-intentioned phrases like, “Just do your best, that’s all God cares about,” or “It doesn’t really matter.” Because, well, some of it does. And my version of ‘best’ may not be God’s intended better.

Still, a few truths have grounded me. I may not have found resolve with this idea of balance yet, but I’ve realized my discomfort may point to a deeper, indicative truth:  I live in an unbalanced world. That’s the nature of sin, isn’t it? It distorts God’s good design and throws order into chaos. 

So maybe balance, as I’ve understood it, is…unachievable? Maybe I can’t pursue everything at once. Maybe some dreams have to wait. Maybe I have to pick and choose what’s most important – not just to me but according to God. And sometimes, I think He blesses either route. My heart hears, Whatever you do, do it for me– and I’ll bless it. And, while that’s reassuring at times, I’m also scared. What if I misstep?

A friend once shared something that’s stuck with me since. He told me he too used to wrestle with how to invest his time, until he realized that time, money, and energy are limited resources– but God’s story is not. He reminded me that we’re not on the kind of deadline the world pressures us to believe. Phrases like, “You only have one life to live” and “You never know which day could be your last” are partly true. But they miss a larger truth – my life didn’t begin when I was born, it began when I met Jesus. And because I met Jesus, my life has no expiration date. 

I serve an eternal God. Thus, I live an eternal life. 

So, the pressure to squeeze everything meaningful into this season? It pales in comparison to eternity.

Before my wedding, I also read a quote once that cautioned, “Don’t become so distracted planning a great wedding that you forget to prepare for a great marriage.” Oof. Maybe the same applies here. Maybe we’re so busy stewarding this precious life, we forget to keep eternity in view – so afraid of failing, we forget to aim our work at the only thing that lasts.

Sure, I’ll be proud of my accomplishments, proud of my growth…but what will I use it for?

Health– so I can serve better?
Wealth– so I can give more freely?
Art – so I can reflect the Creator?
Friendship– so I can point others to Christ? 

I sent a poem to my friend, Kaity called For a Student Who Used AI to Write a Paper by Joseph Fasano. But the lines hit me hard for entirely different reasons. 

“Now I let it fall back in the grasses.
I hear you. I know this life is hard now.
I know your days are precious on this earth.
But what are you trying to be free of?
The living?
The miraculous task of it?
Love is for the ones who love the work.”

I never thought of living as a miraculous task. Life, yes…but living it?

Maybe the struggle of living is a testament to the miracle. Maybe my inner tension—my craving for balance and resolution—is evidence that I’m trying to live a Kingdom mindset in a world not built to support it. And maybe–just maybe–the ache for balance…the time that won’t multiply…the dreams I can’t fully chase but long for anway…are all whispers.

Whispers of a greater order. A greater home. A reminder that we were never made for this world as is.  Evidence of something more….something eternal.

And as I long for more time, I remind myself — I have it. 

The struggle for balance will persist, but maybe it’s not something that’s evading me. Maybe it’s something that’s waiting for me. Not a burden, but an invitation to rest in the nearness of Heaven. Evidence that I’m being drawn toward something more—and that it’s already been prepared for me.

2 Corinthians 12:9