The Short Pencil

You ever have those moments when you feel stuck and unsure, and then someone shares something seemingly simple and you start crying, look up at the icon of Christ, and think, "Okay Lord… I hear You"?

That was me this morning.

Fr. Tom told a story about a priest friend who grew up in Greece. He held up a tiny pencil that was barely an inch and a half long. That priest had one pencil for the entire school year. By May, he had to pay attention to every bit of it - how much was left, how hard he pressed, whether sharpening it was worth it. He had to choose carefully what he "spent" his pencil on.

Most of us don't live with one pencil anymore. We live with too many pencils, and it's not just pencils. It's too many tasks, too many expectations, too many worries about work and the future. Somehow having more makes us pay attention less. We rush, react, and push through life until we stop noticing what's right in front of us. We stop noticing what's happening inside us. We stop noticing the quiet places where Christ is trying to meet us.

Lately I've realized I don't make time for personal things; sadly, even prayer. Work drains me, and when I finally stop, I don't want to be present. I want to check out, numb out, scroll, disappear into something that doesn't ask anything of me. That's where the pencil becomes more than a story. It becomes an invitation. Paying attention leads to presence, and presence makes connection possible.

Presence is Healing

St. Porphyrios once said, "The soul is healed by being with God." Such simple words, yet so profound. The soul isn't healed by achieving more, escaping, or numbing ourselves. It's healed by being with Him. But being with Him often requires facing the very things we've been avoiding. It requires attention. It requires the courage to look honestly at the last inch of the pencil in our own hearts.

Christ calls us to this kind of attention. In Matthew 6:21 He says, "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Treasure isn't always money or possessions. Sometimes it's whatever receives our energy; our work, our fears, our distractions. When we give everything to those things, our hearts follow. We become scattered, tired, and spiritually thin.

Connection is Essential

I was recently watching Avatar with a friend. In the film, the Na'vi don't simply greet one another by saying "hello." They say, "I see you." It's more than a greeting—it's recognizing the person before you as they truly are. Their heart. Their dignity. Their being.

Real seeing requires attention, presence, and connection. You can't truly see someone if you're distracted, rushed, or closed off.

Can you imagine if we saw each other this way?

The beautiful thing is that Christ already does. He sees each of us completely, and He invites us to see others the same way. Real connection begins when we slow down, pay attention, and let Christ teach us how to truly see one another.

Paying Attention is an Act of Love.

The pencil story reminds me of something simple: paying attention is an act of love. When you only have one pencil, you learn to care for it. When you remember you only have one soul, you begin to care for that too. And when you remember you only have one life, you learn to stay connected to the people, and to the God, who sustains you.

I don't have a perfect prayer life. I don't have balance. I don't have answers about work or the future. But I do know I can try to pay attention to what's right in front of me, to what's in my heart, and to the gentle ways Christ keeps patiently calling me back to Himself. I can try to stay connected, even when I'm tired or feel like I have nothing left to give.

Maybe the invitation is simply to begin again each day. To pay attention to one small thing each day. To stay connected in one small way each day. To let myself be seen by God, by others, and even by my own heart. To offer God the tiny, worn-down piece of the "pencil" I have left, trusting that He can work with whatever I bring Him.

Maybe that is enough for now. Maybe that's the beginning of healing. Maybe that's the quiet way Christ teaches us to become more present, more authentic, and more deeply connected to Him and to one another.

With Love in Christ,

Maria

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 Originally published in the Holy Apostles E-bulletin. Subscribe here.