My daughter is a pro at it. At 20 months old, she can already sputter out a machine-gun stream of no-no-no-no-no-no-no faster than I can ask her to do anything.

When I jumped head-first into freelance design work, I determined that in order to grow my client roster and establish a reputable business, I would agree to every project I could possibly manage. For a while things went great. Even accepting projects that I knew were at least a little outside my skillset, I managed to stay fairly busy (even if it wasn’t as profitable as I hoped it would be). Even recently, I have managed to stay busy, juggling work for a wide range of clients. Some of the projects have helped to pay the bills, while others have been…well, let’s just say they were completed for the satisfaction of a job well done. But I have come to the realization in recent weeks that saying “yes” to everything eventually means saying “no” to something.

Now, I should be careful before I go much further to say that I value all of the opportunities I have had to do meaningful work. I don’t want to give the impression that I’m not grateful for the work that has come my way; I am, in fact, incredibly thankful.

But in the planning that I did before beginning a mad scramble to start my own design business, I wish I had penciled in some time to figure out what filters I should put in place, and when. Learning to say no at the right time could have saved me some stress (and maybe some hair), and might have helped me to avoid some choices that were actually counter-productive to my business and personal goals. Equally important, it may have helped me avoid some of the guilt that comes along with knowing that someone might feel like they were getting the short end of the stick if I actually said “no.” Andy Stanley talks about this in his book Choosing to Cheat.

I shared with my wife that I felt as though I was running from appointment to appointment, often crossing paths in the least efficient way possible. And she gave me some revolutionary advice:

“Why don’t you take a day off?”

Now, I grew up in a church that takes our day of rest very seriously. At least on paper, it’s at the core of who we are. But the reality of working part time as a musician for a church (something I enjoy deeply and give high priority) means I don’t always get to observe the Sabbath that is so central to our identity as a denomination. When Dena suggested that I take a day off – an honest-to-goodness really real, truly true, pinky-swear day off, I was shocked to think how long it had been since I wasn’t worrying about my next task or appointment.

I once heard the concept of Sabbath described, with beautiful simplicity, as “a reminder that I don’t make the world go around.” That’s easy to forget sometimes; when I feel the pressure to provide for my family; when I’m given the opportunity to do really meaningful, life-changing work; when my calendar seems to fill up faster than I can enter the appointments. It’s a way to practice saying no in order to allow the important things to be the important things in my life. It’s a way to find my center, to reflect on my priorities, and to stay true to the things I want to define me.

And it may also be the best business decision I’ve ever made.