What if the pace of our lives is shaping more than our schedules? Jamie Phear reflects on the formation that comes through hurry – and the invitation to slow down enough to notice God in the ordinary moments of our days

One Friday afternoon, my husband and I were out getting groceries. I had a FaceTime call scheduled with my family back home in the States – coordinating my parents and three siblings is no small feat – so I didn’t want to miss it. We’d left later than planned, and time was tight.

As we made our way into town, I could tell he was frustrated, so I asked what was bothering him. “We’re always rushing. We’ve packed too much into too little time,” he said.

I could feel the offence rising, my body tensing, my face flushing with heat. Does he not see how hard I try to live at a slower pace? I’ve shaped my life around the practices of Jesus – creating space to hear God’s voice, practising silence and solitude, choosing to walk when I’d rather rush, even getting off a stop early to take the long way home, trying to make room for God in my day.

“We aren’t always rushing,” I shot back. “I’ve been really intentional about living at a slower pace. I don’t rush!”

Even as I said it, I could feel the self-righteousness, and the self-deception. The heat rising in my face wasn’t anger; it was conviction. The gentle nudge of the Holy Spirit reminding me I still have more to learn.

Because the reality was, I was rushing.

I was tight on time between the grocery run and this important call, and I was rushing. We were rushing. It only took a moment for the self-awareness to settle in. I still have a long way to go in learning to live an unhurried life like Jesus.

Learning to slow down

My heart longs for a slower pace, and yet I often find myself moving too quickly, overcommitting and squeezing in one more thing. Before I know it, my mind is racing, leaving little room for real attentiveness.

I believe deeply that hurry is the enemy of a prayerful life, and yet something in me is always tempted to move more quickly.

But here’s what I’m learning: the pace of our lives matters. Because pace is a formation issue, not just a lifestyle choice.

If we are constantly distracted and hurried, it becomes very difficult to discern God’s voice

When I talk about pace, I don’t mean how much you have on your plate. You can have a full life – work, family, church, responsibilities – and still move at a different pace with God.

Pace isn’t about how much you’re carrying. It’s about how present you are to God in the middle of it. And that kind of attentiveness doesn’t happen accidentally. It’s something we practise. It’s something we learn. It’s something that forms us. 

In a culture of constant distraction and instant gratification, this is deeply countercultural. As a friend recently said, time is no longer our most valuable asset, attention is.

But the truth is, a hurried pace forms impatience in us. It feeds on distraction and instant gratification, and, over time, it erodes our ability to be fully present – to God, to others, even to ourselves. It leaves us unsettled, easily agitated and always reaching for the next thing.

A slower pace, on the other hand, forms attentiveness. It teaches us to notice, to listen, to linger. It roots us more deeply in God’s presence and invites us into the slow, steady work of formation. And, in that place, something begins to shift. We become more grounded, more peaceful and more able to stay present in the moment we’re in.

To move at a Christ-like pace is to live slowly enough to recognise the Holy Spirit in the ordinary moments of our day. Every morning, I walk around the park outside my house, and, as I do, I ask God to make me aware of His presence. Yesterday, I noticed the sun shining through the fresh leaves on the oak trees that line part of the path. The leaves are new, still so small compared to what they’ll be at the height of summer, and I sensed God gently reminding me of slow growth, of purposeful seasons. It lasted two or three minutes at most, but it felt like a holy moment. A simple moment of paying attention to the God who is in everything, reminding me that my seasons are purposeful too.

Noticing God in the small moments

I find it’s so easy to divide our lives into categories – spiritual, ordinary, work. But the invitation of Jesus is an integrated life – one where God is not confined to a quiet time or a church service, but recognised in the middle of everything. Because God is not absent from our lives, rather the question is whether we are present enough to notice Him.

Living unhurried doesn’t always mean doing less (though sometimes it does). It means creating enough margin within our moments to be present to God because that’s where He meets us.

So, let me ask you: what is the pace of your life right now? Or better yet, what is your pace making possible? Is it intimacy with God…or just survival? And if it feels like survival right now, that’s OK. But is there an invitation to something deeper, even here?

Slowing down doesn’t begin with changing your whole life. It begins with small choices, like pausing before you respond, leaving space between moments and choosing presence over productivity. Because if we are constantly distracted and hurried, it becomes very difficult to discern God’s voice.

I think of Elijah. God was not in the wind or the earthquake, but in the gentle whisper (see 1 Kings 19:11-13). The God who can shake the whole earth often chooses to speak softly, which means if we want to hear Him, we have to slow down enough to listen.

I’m learning that attentiveness isn’t necessarily built in long, uninterrupted hours, but formed in small moments of noticing God in the middle of an already full life.

So, if slowing down feels like a challenge right now, don’t start with everything. Start with a moment. This isn’t about finding more time; it’s about becoming present to God in the time you already have.

A 5-step attentiveness exercise

Here is a simple way to practise attentiveness in the middle of your day:

1. Pause (even briefly)

In the middle of your day – before a meeting, while walking or waiting in a queue – pause. It might only be 10–20 seconds. Take a breath. God is here.

2. Become aware

Gently notice what’s happening within you and around you. Are you rushed, distracted, present? No judgment, just awareness.

3. Turn your attention toward God

In that same moment, quietly pray: Lord, help me notice You here.

4. Stay for a moment

You may notice a small shift, a sense of calm, a steadiness or simply the awareness that you are not alone. Don’t overthink it. Attentiveness is learned by staying, not striving.

5. Return gently

Then continue with your day. But perhaps a little slower. A little more present.