Life happens. And it seems like there's always more life happening, not less. So as we juggle all we must do and try to steal a minute for what we want to do, how do we decide when to say No? Is that little word even a part of our vocabulary, or is quality of life synonymous with quantity of life? Wayne Steffen, staff member at Fresno Pacific University and as much a time-management expert as parenthood, employment and the desire to be a contributing citizen can make him, vents on this topic in this Scholars Speak.

I had to make a decision. I had to quit doing something important in order to do something else important.

For the past three years I’ve been on the board of the West Coast Mennonite Sale & Auction for World Relief. Commonly known as the MCC Sale, the event—part auction, part nosh-fest, oft-time family reunion and always good time—has been raising $200,000 a year for Mennonite Central Committee (MCC), which works in countries around the world.

See more at mcc.org and mcc.org/westcoast.

So why did I quit? Because my congregation sponsors a community outreach called CARE that I have been involved with for several years. The group needed a chairperson, and I was asked.

Why not do both? After all, what’s two more meetings a month? Here’s where we get to the title.

I pick on Oprah because I doubt she cares what I think, and because she symbolizes daily on TV and monthly in her magazine the myth of YCHiA: You Can Have it All.

That’s right—myth. This trick gets played especially on women, who are told you can have an important career, a happy family, exciting leisure time and physical fitness…simultaneously!

Men used to be sold this bill of goods, too, and we believed it until the heart attack numbers started adding up. Women are catching up on this statistic, which is too bad because early death is not the road to equality.

Two things are wrong with the myth of YCHiA. First, when men seemed to be able to do it expectations were lower. Dad never had to cook, clean, work outside the home, volunteer with the PTA and cover the 2 a.m. feeding to be perfect. All we had to do was show up sober after work, pat Beaver on the head and play ball with Little Ricky until Mom brought out the home-cooked meal she whipped up without falling off her pedestal, or her high heels.

Second, when Oprah in O and whoever is on the cover of Redbook and Good Housekeeping seem to be living la vida YCHiA, remember this: They don’t have it all, they have staff! Administrative assistants, nannies, drivers, cooks, maids (I bet they’re women), personal assistants, trainers, time managers, therapists and gurus without portfolio get them through the day—and their millions.

Ever notice that the lives of these models of perfection tend to run in cycles?

• First she’s the ingénue, new to fame and exciting with her first TV or movie deal. We’re all pulling for her.
• Then she falls in love, maybe more than once, but finally marries and her Cinderella wedding to a man almost as pretty as she is becomes the toast of the year. We’re all pulling for both of them.
• Children arrive, now in a variety of ways, and everyone is happy and cute, but yes, a little tired. Still, we’re pulling for all of them.
• He or she turns out to be a jerk. She or he takes him or her back. He or she’s a jerk again. This cycle repeats until it’s all over. We all take sides and are pulling for her or him and hoping the divorce trial of the year won’t/will be too embarrassing.
• A period of silence during which we chart the rise of another ingénue or two.
• With time and smart marketing, our previous heroine may return to play the experienced woman making it on her own, happy with/without a new love and with a new lease on life.

Names could be named, but I won’t because these folks have one other professional on call: attorneys.

So if YCHiA is a myth, must we slide straight into YCHA (You Can’t Have Anything)?

Uh, no.

Most of us can have what we really want—just not all at the same time. Time is what it’s all about. Time, energy and responsibilities. I made my choice; your choices probably make mine laughable. Choosing is what’s important, and what’s difficult.

Choosing is also what makes us who we are: those who chase everything never decide what’s important and drift in so many directions they ultimately disperse like a cloud in a crosswind. Those who choose, especially when that choice is painful, become solid; not always glamorous, but real.