There are days when our mind just doesn’t focus. Days when we can’t follow the thread of a podcast, can’t progress our to-do list, can’t write that email.
Nothing seems to flow. It’s as if someone has taken our natural concentration, screwed it up into a ball, and tossed it out into the garden. And we’re left staring blankly at our screens.
It happens to us all from time to time. Often when we’re tired – or stressed – or distracted by an important event happening elsewhere. Sometimes when there is a more serious underlying cause: depression, burnout or a more consistent anxiety state. And increasingly so in recent years – during the pandemic, many noted that concentration was unusually hard, and things have not improved since.
Lacking concentration can leave us with an unusual sense of guilt. We can torment ourselves with questions like: What’s wrong with me – I’m not usually like this? Why can’t I just pull it together? What’s going to happen when people discover just how unproductive I’ve been? It can lead to grumpiness too: stemming from a (misplaced) assumption that if the people around us would just be a bit more co-operative then we’d be able to function just fine. Sometimes it nudges us to despair – maybe my role in the local church isn’t for me anymore. Maybe I should just give up and let someone else do things better than me?
Many of us will have found techniques to help us manage the sluggishness of our brain. A spot of exercise – some fresh air – a cold drink (alcohol-free) – some time away from scrolling through those mind-numbing social media feeds. As embodied souls, it makes sense to treat our bodies wisely in such ways.
There are practical steps we can take as well. Breaking down to-do lists into active, bite-sized chunks is one. ‘Write Bible study’ may feel like an insurmountable task but ‘Read passage and highlight verbs’ can be an achievable goal (who doesn’t feel more alert while holding a highlighter pen?!)
We can touch base with our GP to see if our lack of concentration might be a symptom of something that needs more specialised support. But what about God? Does He have any help or hope for concentration-less days? There’s no foolproof recipe for reigniting our minds but we can try:
Looking up: It may seem a simplistic thing to say but our God is very big. Infinite, extraordinary, omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent – to pick just a few words that describe Him well. One of the perks of having an enormous God, is that it’s really no problem if we are weak and very small. We can take the pressure off – our call is not to shoulder all the burdens but to ‘trust in the LORD’ (Ps. 4:5). It’s His work after all.
Lying down: When concentration ebbs, to-do lists expand. Like a law of physics, it consistently works that way. We can try to work ourselves into a frenzy. We can even convince ourselves that it’s wrong to sleep. But it’s not achievement that gives us permission to rest – it’s God. Even when life is whirring, we can join with David and say: ‘In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, LORD, make me dwell in safety’ (Ps. 4:8).
Speaking out: Often there are things on our mind – or on our subconscious – when concentration is hard. Putting words to the stresses, the strains, the disappointment and pains can be a liberating experience. We can search our heart (Ps. 4:4) and begin to turn to God and say: ‘Answer me when I call to you … Give me relief from my distress’ (Ps. 4:1). Talking to friends too is important – expression is far better than suppression when it comes to clearing the mind.
Taking in: Together we can remind ourselves that our value is not in our productivity but our relationship with the Lord. We can revel in the fact we are not alone: ‘the LORD hears when I call to him’ (Ps. 4:3) – and replace feelings of failure with the patience of faith.
