I’ve always been proud of my own speed at work. Some 15 years in the corporate world have trained me to do everything efficiently and productively, because I had so much to do.

Pomodoro technique (fit your work in 25-minute intervals followed by 5 minutes of rest), Eisenhower Matrix (prioritise tasks by urgency and importance), eat that frog approach (do the most dreaded task first)

I became so fast at some of my tasks that Facebook once suspended my account when I was scheduling posts for my company’s page. They thought I was a bot.

That haste crept into other areas of my life. Even when I switched to a job with a less demanding tempo, I retained the same sense of urgency. Colleagues often wondered if I had a tummy ache because of my quick march from my cubicle to the toilet.

This obsession with speed, however, has its downsides. Even when I’m out for meals with my colleagues, I tend to walk very fast, leaving them behind to chat among themselves as I charge towards the venue. It’s not that I don’t care about them; it’s just that my laser-sharp focus is on the next agenda on my calendar—lunch.

But moving fast has created more issues than simply leaving colleagues behind. I’ve also found that being too fast has left me with not only a constant feeling of urgency, but also irritability when there’s a delay or interruption. It’s even affected how I fellowship with others and with God.

Some of us might baulk at the thought of slowing down when the world is in a rush around us, and efficiency and productivity are watchwords in Singapore. Not surprisingly, Singapore has the fastest walkers in the world—on average, a person here walks about three times as fast as someone in Malawi, one global study found.

Busyness and hurry can also give us a thrill. It makes us feel like we’re on to something important in life. It gives us a rush of adrenaline, of energy.

In contrast, slowing down is . . . boring. It almost has a lazy or listless quality to it.

So why should we slow down? Because it gives us the space to attend to what’s really important in life.

Do you remember the last time that you caught up with good friends over a meal or drinks, and how quickly time seemed to pass by? How your heart—and not just your stomach—was filled by laughter, tears, and joy, and all the time spent was well worth it. Such moments remind us that it takes time to cultivate and nurture relationships.

That’s why Jesus took care to spend unhurried time with His disciples and the people He ministered to. He spent entire days with them (John 1:39). It made me wonder: Didn’t He have other things to do? Didn’t He have crowds to preach to, and people to heal? But truly, He remembered what was more important—to love.

A recent visit to a social-enterprise bakery reminded me how I’ve missed opportunities to connect with people by rushing through my daily routine. After picking out my pastries, I went to the cashier who greeted me with a chirpy welcome.

We ended up having a casual, unhurried conversation, during which I discovered that she was also a Christian, where she worshipped, and where her boss worshipped.

As I made my way out of the shop, I couldn’t help but feel a little lighter that morning. For a few minutes, I managed to “live in the moment” and interact with someone meaningfully.

On any other usual day, I would have focused on the task—go in, pay up, and get out. But that said, as I inhaled the buttery fragrance of the croissant and sank my teeth into its flaky layers, I felt the warmth of knowing that I’d just had an opportunity to share some time and connect with someone over our common faith.

Slowing down is also important when we are supporting others in their walk with God.

Our desire for quick results can show up in our frustration over the slowness of change in the lives of people around us. But Jesus himself gave His disciples time and space to grow. He knew that spiritual growth is slow, just like the growth of a seed, a common metaphor for the kingdom of God (Mark 4:26-29).

In the modern world, many of us often set (or are given) “milestones” to assess if we are progressing quickly enough. But we can’t set a timetable for spiritual growth. While we may be concerned if someone is still drinking spiritual milk after a long time, we need to remember that loving someone also means having the patience to give them room—and time—to grow (1 Corinthians 13:4).

One of the most often-quoted Bible stories to address our addiction to busyness is that of Mary and Martha, in Luke 10:38-42. In defence of the responsible and dutiful Martha—with whom I can identify most closely—the intention to serve Jesus a nourishing meal was definitely praiseworthy.

But, as Bible teacher Alice Matthews points out in Mary and Martha: Balancing Life’s Priorities, “The problem did not lie in the work Martha was doing. It was her attitude of fretting and worrying that created the bad situation . . . Martha’s problem was one of balance, of holding life in the proper tension.”

She adds: “[Jesus] knew that our relationship with God does not develop in the midst of fretting busyness. The one thing needful is to hear God speak to us. Mary chose to put time into that primary relationship and not be distracted by trivia.”

That’s something that I personally find challenging. As much as I try to spend time with the Lord reading His Word every day, I know that sometimes I bring little more than fragments of my focus and time to Him. My mind tends to be cluttered with so many thoughts and distractions, that I sometimes tell myself, Okay, let’s just keep this to 10 minutes.

Yet, Psalm 46:10 reminds us: “Be still, and know that I am God.” It’s a personal reminder to read slowly instead of skimming through the Bible—to read for transformation and not information, and to meditate and stay with a thought from the Lord.

And, if we feel rushed because we’re anxious about our lives, American author Adele Ahlberg Calhoun has this suggestion for our prayers each morning, before our head leaves the pillow: “Ask Him to care for these things as you go about your daily tasks. When your worries creep in, return to the moment when you handed God your concerns.”

Indeed, slowing down has given me the space and time to notice those thoughts that produce anxiety, so that I can present them to God, who has granted me peace.

Having linked my identity to efficiency, productivity, and speed, I’ve found it unnatural to slow down. Yet I am reminded that we are called by God not just to do, but also to be.

While doing is about activity, accomplishments, and achievements—things on the outside—being has more to do with our character and identity—things inside. One is about getting things done, and the other is about allowing God to transform us into the Christlike person He wants us to be.

I’ve come to realise that when I focus overly on the doing rather than being, I may end up helping someone grudgingly rather than lovingly (1 Corinthians 13:3); working half-heartedly rather than wholeheartedly (Colossians 3:23); and serving proudly rather than humbly (Philippians 2:3-4), which isn’t Christlike at all.

Slowing down helps free us from the compulsion to take our identity from what we do and realign it to who we are—children of God, deeply loved, and being changed to exhibit Christ’s purity (1 John 3:1-3).

I am still learning to slow down, so that I can pay more attention to God’s work in my life and others’. If you are like me, perhaps you may want to consider slowing down too, so that we can witness God’s work and love.