Drowning in Abundance: The Scarcity Beneath the Overflow
Learning to Listen in a World Flooded with Information
“I just want to stay engaged in the mission.”
That’s what a beautiful soul I was blessed to coach often told me in her final year on earth. She was facing a cancer diagnosis in her late 30s, yet those words weren’t said in defeat — they were filled with purpose.
She never had to finish the sentence; we both knew what she meant: to stay engaged in the mission He has for me.
Our coaching calls centered around what that looked like each week — what it meant to remain engaged, present, faithful.
How often do we, gifted with the illusion of infinite days, disengage from our own mission?
What if this was our last month? How might we live — and listen — differently?
Especially in a world that overwhelms us with noise and novelty.
One line from yesterday’s sermon stuck with me:
“The enemy of our soul just wants us to get far from Jesus.”
The enemy doesn’t need us to fall apart — only to drift.
And that drift can come in many forms: a busy schedule, an overloaded inbox, endless inspiration we can’t process.
These days? Spaciousness feels rare.
The cicadas have made themselves known here in Western North Carolina this summer.
Not a hum — but a desperate mating call that refuses to be ignored.
And maybe, if we let it, we’ll notice there’s a desperate call inside us too.
A holy discontent that won’t let us stay numb.
But it’s hard to hear that call over the noise.
Our hands, minds, and inboxes are overflowing.
Pings and notifications — so constant, we barely register them, like breathing.
Their constancy… could it actually be a form of scarcity?
All the overflow:
Information. Inspiration. Ideas.
And yet something is missing:
Our attention. Our presence. Our capacity to process what matters.
It feels like abundance, but it’s more like lack.
A million inputs, but little space to listen.
We’re flooded with “inspiration” and “content,”
but we’ve lost the slow art of intentional intake.
As we let ourselves drift in cultural habits,
unknowingly we become victims of the vessel.
Our thoughts, altered by algorithms.
Our identities, shaped by filtered feeds.
Even when we know better, it’s easy to get swept away.
We’re not just over-whelmed.
We’re under-nourished.
Staying engaged in the mission starts with attention—
noticing what God is saying and responding to it.
What if we made space to linger, to process, to really listen?
Not just hear sermons or podcasts, but let them shape us?
We’ve all walked away from truth ready to act,
only to be swept back into noise, distraction, and everyday demands.
And unless we make time to meet God in it, the moment slips away.
Maybe you’ve felt that too?
Watching that spark of excitement quickly fade stirred something inside me.
It made me want to create something — a simple tool to help us hold onto what God is saying.
That’s how the Sermon Notebook came to be.
Not just to help us remember —
but to give us a space to respond.
To capture not just notes, but nudges.
To listen not just to words, but to the whispers of God behind them.
James 1:22–25 paints a striking picture:
Someone who hears the Word but doesn’t put it into practice is like a person who looks in a mirror and forgets their face.
I know I’m likely to forget at times —
but I want to stay engaged with what God is revealing, as much as I can.
And I imagine you do too.
This notebook I created, is a tool — a spiritual companion of sorts. Designed to help you stay present during the message, and linger with God afterward.
Use it for sermons, podcasts, or small group discussions —
Because often, God has more to say after the message ends.
Let’s be intentional—
making room for the nudges to break through,
where His voice isn't drowned out by the noise.
Let’s not just consume.
Let’s dwell.
“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty...” (Psalm 91 NIV)
As you lean in to listen and make room for God’s voice, I pray this Sermon Notebook will help you bridge the gap between inspiration and meaningful action — helping you live out what you hear.
🖊️ You can order your copy, here: (Sermon Notebook).
Lord, I pray for my friend on the other side of the screen — may we come to know you more intimately, and stay engaged in the mission You’ve entrusted to us…for Your glory!
Til Next Time,
Lisa
P.S. Since I’m still learning the ins and outs of self-publishing, I’ve used the name Still Point Press — which is why you won’t see my name on the cover. It’s my way of letting myself be a beginner — without worrying what future me might think years down the road. Always learning…
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