or, the unseen burden of unfinished things.

Identifying the problem
We’ve all stared down the barrel of a loaded to-do list either on paper or in our heads, and perhaps dreaded every entry.
The list that gets longer begins, often, not with a clamour but with a whisper. A quiet, internal notation of a task left incomplete. Perhaps it is the half-completed (or not even started!) tax return, the reminder emails from MRC form a silent rebuke from the inbox. It might be the unopened email from someone, its subject line hinting at a complexity, confrontation or task we feel ill-equipped or just plain don’t want to handle. Or perhaps worse, it could be the lingering awareness of a friendship strained, a conversation left un-had or unresolved, a promise made but not yet fulfilled. These are not merely items on a to-do list; they are, in the parlance of psychology and productivity, ‘open loops’.
They are the circuits of our intention and responsibility that we have left unclosed, and their persistent, ghostly presence in the background of our minds exerts a far greater toll than we often care to admit.

The impact
The draining effect of these open loops is not merely a matter of feeling slightly bothered. It is a tangible, psychological weight that operates with a quiet and insidious efficiency. Each unresolved matter, each unfulfilled obligation, constitutes a small leak in the reservoir of our mental and emotional energy. The cognitive psychologist would speak of the ‘Zeigarnik effect’, the mind’s tendency to cling to unfinished tasks, rehearsing them subconsciously, thereby consuming precious attentional resources that could be directed towards creative or restorative pursuits.
We may believe we are resting, yet a part of our inner self remains on duty, standing guard over these piles of unfinished business. This constant, low-grade psychic friction is what slows our momentum, what makes us feel perpetually tired before the day has properly begun, and what fosters a generalised sense of unease that we struggle to attribute to any single cause. The physical impacts are real; this state of perpetual, low-level anxiety can manifest in disrupted sleep, a weakened immune response, and a body held in a subtle but constant state of tension.

The examples
From the perspective of a Christian faith, and particularly through a lens which treasures the integration of the spiritual with the material and the psychological, this phenomenon is not merely a quirk of human cognition. It speaks to a deeper, theological reality about the nature of sin, responsibility, and the God who calls us into wholeness. The state of having open loops is, in a profound sense, a state of disorder. It is a reflection of the mysterium iniquitatis, the mystery of lawlessness, which introduces fragmentation where there should be integrity.
When we procrastinate, we are not simply managing our time poorly; we are, in a small but significant way, acquiescing to chaos over the shalom, the peace and wholeness, which God intends for His creation and for our souls.
The Scriptures are replete with warnings that resonate powerfully with this modern concept. The Book of Proverbs, that treasury of divinely inspired practical wisdom, offers a stark diagnosis: “The desire of the sluggard kills him, for his hands refuse to labour.” (Proverbs 21:25). This is not merely about physical laziness; it is about a refusal to engage, a spiritual and psychological paralysis that ultimately has a deadly effect on one’s vitality. The slothful here is not simply resting; he is being consumed from within by the very things he refuses to address.
More pointedly, the Epistle of James delivers a word that should strike a chord in the heart of any procrastinator whilst of course it is not talking about procrastination…: “So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin.” (James 4:17). This verse in its own way cuts to the very heart of the matter. The sin is not always in a deed actively committed; it is often in the good deed left undone, the difficult word left unspoken, the reconciliation left unattempted. Each open loop is not merely an administrative oversight; it is, by this definition, a potential site of sin, a pocket of disobedience that separates us from the flow of God’s grace.
“This is all a bit dramatic for such a trifling issue as procrastination!” and you may be right but I preach as much to myself as any other. Let us consider the parable of the Two Sons in the book of Matthew (Matthew 21:28–32) . The father commands the first son to go work in the vineyard. The son initially refuses, an act of open rebellion, but later “repented, and went”. The second son immediately agrees with a polite “I go, sir,” but in the end, “did not go”. His was the sin of procrastination, of pleasant acquiescence followed by negligent inaction. His loop remained open. He honoured the father with his lips, but his heart and his hands were far from him. His failure was not one of overt rebellion but of quiet, passive neglect, a failure which, the Lord makes clear, places him outside the Kingdom of God. The tax collectors and the harlots, those who had initially rebelled but later repented and acted, were entering before him.
The solution
So, how then are we to find a remedy for this soul-draining malady? I am the first to admit that I suffer from this, I am a master procrastinator; in fact I think I practically invented the word procrastinate, people should have to contact me and ask my permission to use it! The Christian tradition, with its emphasis on the sacramental life and the cultivation of virtue through habitual grace, provides a path forward. It calls us first to the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Here, the open loops of our moral and relational failures – the harsh word, the neglected duty, the secret injury etc. can be brought into the light of Christ’s mercy. The priest, acting in persona Christi, speaks the words of absolution, not as a mere psychological comfort, but as a divine act that truly closes the loop, restoring our communion with God and breaking the spiritual power of that which we have left undone.
Furthermore, the tradition encourages a robust and disciplined rule of life, a habitual turning of the will towards God in the small things. The purpose of a rule is not to impose a burden, but to train the soul in the virtue of spiritual diligence. By committing to daily prayers, to acts of charity, to the fulfilment of our mundane obligations with a sense of offering them to God, we exercise the muscle of the will. We learn to close loops not merely for the sake of productivity, but as an act of worship, heeding the apostolic injunction: “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men,” (Colossians 3:23). The tedious paperwork, the difficult email, the long-overdue apology, when offered to Christ, are transfigured from burdensome tasks into acts of devotion that build integrity and heal the soul’s fragmentation.

The great lie of procrastination is that by delaying a difficult task, we preserve our peace.
The spiritual truth, born out by both psychology and theology, is that the delay itself is the thief of peace.
Every open loop is a weight upon the soul, a drag on our spiritual momentum, and a compromise of the integrity to which God calls us.
Let us then, with God’s help, examine our hearts, identify those circuits we have left unclosed, and one by one, in repentance and faithful action, seek to close them.
For it is in the finished work, the completed task, the reconciled relationship, and the repentant heart that we find a foretaste of that final rest where, by God’s grace, all our loops shall be closed, and we shall know the perfect peace of His eternal Sabbath.
Pax.