It was the same experience almost every Sunday afternoon. As a Life Teen missionary, we worked retreats most weekends, so we had Mondays off. On Sunday, after we finished throwing away the last of the trash, cleaning the dining hall, and spending some time thanking God for the grace poured out during the weekend’s retreats, people would inevitably start planning how they’d spend their off day. The conversation would go something like this:

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You want to go do _______?”

“Who else is going?”

“I don’t know. Are you in?”

“Maybe.”

“We’re leaving at _______.”

“Okay. I might be there.”

The “maybe,” “who else,” “I’ll think about it,” and “we’ll see” statements were endless. They underscored a phenomenon that is manifested in our culture in a few different ways — flaking, FOMO, and lack of commitment. At root, these terms all encapsulate the same basic issue: we fear committing to anything because we’re worried about missing out on something better.  

This didn’t just happen when I was a missionary; it still happens all the time. I’ve experienced it a lot throughout my life, and I’d be willing to bet that many of you have experienced it too. Maybe you tried to plan a fun outing or thought about going to some event with a friend, but no one was willing to commit. You got some potential interest, but until it was confirmed who was going, what exactly would be happening, and — most importantly — that no better options existed, everyone’s attendance remained uncertain. You may even be guilty of this behavior yourself. 

My generation and those that follow are plagued by this lack of commitment. On the surface, this behavior seems harmless. What’s wrong with trying to choose the best experience all the time? 

Let’s take a look at three reasons why learning to make commitments and keeping them is essential. 

Committing Communicates That We Value Our Relationships

If you’ve ever been on the receiving end of someone flaking, you know that it can hurt. When you make plans and someone doesn’t follow through, it subtly communicates that they don’t value you or your time. Even though they said they’d hang out with you, something else came up and trumped their commitment to you. 

When we stick to our plans even when we don’t necessarily feel like it or when something else we’d prefer to do comes up, we communicate that the people in our lives matter. It’s a way of saying that regardless of other options, “I made a promise to you and I will keep it.” When someone’s actions show us that we are worth committing to, it makes us feel loved and valued. 

Committing to Small Things Makes Us Capable of Committing to Big Things

Commitment doesn’t come to us naturally, especially in an age when we have so many opportunities available all the time. However, the more we commit, the more we learn to commit. It’s like a muscle we grow over time. Keeping my “yes” in little things makes me capable of keeping my “yes” in big things. Sounds familiar, right? 

“He who is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much; and he who is dishonest in a very little is dishonest also in much.” (Luke 16:10)

We have to be faithful in little things because sometimes God will ask very big things of us; and if we haven’t been able to commit to the little things, we won’t have the strength necessary to commit to the big things either. When I stood at the altar on my wedding day, there could be no thoughts of what might be better. A choice had to be made. I had to fully commit to what I was about to say. All of the other options of what could be — whether it was a different vocation, a different spouse, or a different path of life — had to be set aside for the sake of what was right in front of me. My “yes” had to mean “yes,” regardless of better options or seemingly greener grass. The strength of my commitment at that moment was built on lots of smaller commitments I’d made in my life prior to that point. Not to put it too bluntly, but we fool ourselves if we think we can commit to a vocation for life when we can’t even commit to plans on a Saturday night. 

Committing Teaches Us to Appreciate What’s in Front of Us

I used to have a really hard time deciding what to order at restaurants. I’d usually narrow it down to a few options and randomly pick one when the waiter took my order. Inevitably, when the food came out I would wish I had ordered something else. Rather than enjoying what I had, I focused on what I was missing. I think many of us can too often have this perspective on life. 

Owning our commitments and their consequences can help shift our perspective from mourning what we’re missing to appreciating what we have. It trains us to rejoice in the real good right in front of us rather than sulking about the illusory good that could have been. Keeping our commitments is a way we learn to appreciate who we’re with, what we’re doing, and where we are, without always stewing on what we’re missing. 

I have a priest friend who constantly repeats the phrase, “God is here.” It’s a way of acknowledging that whatever circumstances we find ourselves in, God is present and has something for us. When we spend a lot of our time wishing we were somewhere else or worrying about whether we picked the best option, we remove ourselves from reality and live in an illusion of what could have been. But God’s never in the illusion; He’s always in reality. If we accept what’s in front of us and open our eyes and hearts to the circumstances, people, and places present, we’re sure to find God’s presence. 

I’ve learned a lot since my years as a missionary. I still occasionally fear committing to plans on the weekend because of what I might miss, and if I’m honest, I still sometimes have a hard time appreciating my order at a restaurant. But I’ve also experienced the peace that can come from owning what I’ve committed to and trusting that God is present and has something for me in it. 

As this new school year unfolds, let’s strive to be people of our word, whose “yes” means “yes.” (Matthew 5:37) Rather than always fearing what we’re missing, let’s rejoice in where we are, knowing that God is there, too, and that it makes all the difference.