Last Sunday afternoon I picked up one of the books I’ve written and started to re-read it. I know. That sounds kind of weird, right?
Maybe it was the horrible Vikings game that seemed to drain the life right out of me. (Come on, Vikings! What on earth?) And of course, there’s all the stuff going on in the world that invites us to believe that Hope has walked out the door and bought a one-way ticket to Pluto. Meanwhile, my to-do list seems to be screaming at me while the days get shorter.
But. I knew that my emotions were seriously taking over, my body was tired, and my to-do list was winning. So, I stopped. And I thought I need to remember that God meets me. Right here and right now. I didn’t need a pep talk, a rah-rah you’ve got this kind of reminder. I needed to remember that there have been other moments like this that have passed. (You know, Vikings fumbles, world chaos, and frustrating to-do lists.)
So, I read one of my stories in “This is Livin’!” Knowing that my ability to control or even influence the Vikings’ defense, or make a significant change on world events on a Sunday afternoon was not possible, I knew I could change my to-do list perspective “When Life Becomes the List.” I’m sharing the reminder here because I don’t think I’m the only one who can use the encouragement.
Your list may focus on kids’ expectations and family obligations. Or figuring out how to find another job. Or pay your bills. Or finding the courage and strength to get out of bed. Or how to just get your life back in order. Please remember . . . God will meet you at your list.
Blessings on your day, my friend. I am praying that you will KNOW God’s presence NOW in the middle of your stuff.
When Life Becomes the List
“Domestic Goddess” will never be my title.
Becoming Suzy Homemaker is a dream. (More often, my experience is a nightmare.)
Every time I cook, I pray that nobody dies from the food I’ve just prepared.
So a list of to-do’s (The List) that involves cleaning, shopping, and cooking snatches me away from my happy place. It’s a list of things I don’t consider fun.
Sometimes, I put pretty blue bullets next to each group of words on The List to make it a bit more energizing. (Yeah, like that really works.) Sometimes, I scrawl The List on the back of a bank statement envelope (which just adds another whole layer of anxiety) with a broken pencil I find underneath the car seat, along with 13 pennies and two Hot Tamales candies. Sometimes, I start The List with everything I did yesterday just so I have a few tasks to cross off. (Some call it cheating. I call it creative list building.)
The List draws every ounce of air out of my lungs. It has more suction than that vacuum cleaner that can lift a bowling ball off the floor.
Furniture to dust. Floors to wash. Toilets to scrub. Rugs to be shaken. Cobwebs to be eliminated. Groceries to be bought. Carpets to be cleaned. Laundry to move from the washer to the dryer before it gets moldy. Or moldier.
Lord, in all of this busy-ness, please show me …
How to live fully when life is reduced to The List.
And maybe most importantly …
Tell me it’s OK to just stop and breathe.
I put so much pressure on myself. Be. Do. Get It Done.
And these homemaking tasks don’t come easily for me.
Please help me find that place of domestic contentment where I’m refreshed and not ragged.
Focused and not frazzled.
Settled and not sinking.
Lord, I know you meet me right where I am.
So, today, I’ll See You at The List.