Category Archives: work
Twenty more twenty minutes
Whenever we ask Isabel to do something she holds up her little finger and says, “Two minutes.” She’ll go to bed in two minutes. She’ll be ready for dinner in two minutes. She’ll be done with her bath in two minutes. Everything requires just two more minutes.
My life, in contrast, needs twenty more twenty minutes.
It seems everything can be accomplished in about twenty minutes. Sometimes you’ll need two twenty minutes, but for the most part, twenty minutes should do it. We should exercise at least twenty minutes a day. Taking a shower and getting ready: twenty minutes. Making, eating and cleaning up after dinner: at least twenty minutes each.
I am told that to be a good writer I need to be writing at least twenty minutes a day. If I want to be a good Christian writer, I also need to take twenty minutes each day in personal devotion; Scripture meditation and prayer and another twenty minutes (or more) reading inspirational Christian books and articles.
That takes just three hours of my day. What else is on my list?
Water the flowers. Get the groceries. Feed the kids. Give them baths. Finish the samples for the church ladies’ craft night. Finish the thank you notes from Zach’s birthday. Update our calendar. (It still shows July.) Get the oil changed and a car wash. Research bedroom furniture. Call the dermatologist. Do the laundry. Clean the house. Tend the garden. Greet the neighbors. Do my nails. Separate clothes for Salvation Army. Get and send gift for Jen’s new baby. Book a hotel in North Carolina for Jack’s birthday. Make arrangements to visit Tracy in Kentucky when her baby is born. Call back Sarah, Katie, Julie, Carolyn, Mom, Erin … Email customers about August sales. Get stamps. Deposit checks. Pay bills. Get birthday gift for Cameron. Send cards to Claudia, Jennifer, Maria, Terry and Liz.
Okay … so now we’re up to 16 hours. Am I missing anything? Oh …right …
Paint the bookcase. Finalize lesson plans for our sign-language class on Tuesday. Hang the shelves in the basement. Sort through the “clutter closet”. Teach Isabel her alphabet. Read to the kids. QUALITY TIME. Do the laundry again. (I do have two toddlers living here!) Hem my skirt. Get new shoes. Say “hello” to my husband. Call contractors for estimates on finishing the upstairs. Find a new dentist. Research housing opportunities for Mom. Update websites. SLEEP!! Order photo prints. Re-organize scrapbook papers (as if I’ll ever have time to scrap!) Recycle old magazines. Find zoo membership card before Monday …
Yeah … I just need twenty more twenty minutes.
Divided Conquests
I have too many hats and wear none of them well. A jack of all trades – well, in my case “Jill” – master of none. That’s me. I sew. I cook. I stamp. I scrap. I write. I am a mother, a sister, a teacher, a daughter, a wife and sometimes a friend. I am a Christian, a servant, a peacekeeper and a counselor. I am tired; frustrated … I am burnt out.
My energies are divided. The more I try to do anything right, the more I seem to neglect something else. All of this attempted productivity clashes loudly with the soundtrack of my life – performed by an extremely chatty two-year-old. I don’t read the Bible as often as I should. I don’t maintain my business like my customers deserve. I snap and bark at my kids and husband all too often. My friends are neglected. My house is a mess. My garden needs attention. I am completely behind on correspondence. And there are four people waiting for an answer to new commitment invitations.
I have slept through the night – an actual, uninterrupted eight hours – only once in the last two months.
I have nothing important to say today. Just that I am weary from head to foot and not knowing how to remedy the situation. More exercise? When do I squeeze that in? Perhaps better organization. A maid? Personal assistant? A clone! That would do it. Oh, right … already got one. She’s one-eighth my size.
The encouraging thing is this: No matter how deep I bury myself, God can still hear me. He is always near. He is always faithful. And I have direct access whenever or wherever I want. How cool is that?
“What other nation is so great as to have their gods near them the way the LORD our God is near us whenever we pray to Him?” — Deuteronomy 4:7 (NIV)
It is the gift of God.
“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith – and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God – not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works which God prepared in advance for us to do.” ~ Ephesians 2:8-10 (NAS)
If you’ve been a Christian for long, or even if you haven’t, you’ve probably heard the ticket analogy of salvation. Salvation is like a winning lottery ticket that you find in your front yard. You receive it freely, but you still have to cash it in. This implies that we have some part in our salvation. We have to do something in order to receive the rewards. In this analogy “cashing it in” would be faith. We must have faith in Jesus Christ and His ability to save us. When we acknowledge that only He can save us, that is faith. That acknowledgement and faith is our part of salvation. Makes sense – right?
In an attempt to be more diligent in my memorization, I put Ephesians 2:8-10 up in my kitchen this week. I look at it when I am feeding the kids or cleaning up afterwards. I read it while I eat. It is a wonderful presence and reminder of my new goal. It may have been the constant reading or it, or simply noticing the punctuation … God used this to teach me something new.
We have absolutely nothing to do with our salvation.
I proclaim just as loudly as the next Baptist that salvation is a free gift. There is nothing we can do to earn our ticket to Heaven. But then when really tested on this, we hem and haw over the technicalities. Well, you do have to believe. You have to ask Jesus to be your Savior. You have to confess your sins and ask forgiveness. But other than that … well, and then you really should live a pure life. You need to look like a Christian, not just talk like one. But salvation is free!
I am not a legalist. Really. I firmly do believe that salvation is completely without merit. It is by mercy and grace alone that we may be called heirs of Christ. I just have difficulty defending this sometimes. Until now.
Look between the dashes. It says: “and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God.” Whenever reading this verse, I thought this phrase referred to the grace. Read the whole verse again. This refers to the FAITH.
Yes, our salvation is by grace – obviously given by God – through faith, which is also given by God. How cool is that! We don’t even have to cash in our tickets. God gives us the faith we need and He requires. It is all a work of God! And the apostle goes on to tell us just that in the next verse: “For we are God’s workmanship created in Christ Jesus …” God has created us. He gave His Son for us. Through grace He gives us salvation which we may accept through faith – which He also gives us. But there is still more: He created us to do good works. Even those good works have already been prepared BY HIM for us to do.
All this is just more fuel for His glory. May our praise to Him echo like thunder throughout all eternity!
In five years …
I am never going to catch up. At this very moment, my kitchen is overflowing with dirty dishes, including a pot still holding dinner from two nights ago. My living room is littered with toys, books, mail and laundry. My bedroom is still mid-purge – displaying piles of clothes to keep, donate and trash. (The home-style “Clean Sweep” started last month.) In the other bedrooms are two sleeping children. Peace. Finally.
The day has already been filled with morning rituals of getting dressed (a trial in and of itself), VBS, lunch, dancing around the living room and singing a bazillion songs, reading our Bible stories and finally, now, naptime. There is plenty that I should be doing, but I am not interested.
All I want to do is rest. I want to sit. I want to read. I want to write. I do not want to clean or do laundry. I do not want to vacuum. I want to hoard this time for myself. I want to process all that my mind has absorbed and created in the last so many hours.
I remind myself that I should focus on the important, not just the urgent. Sometimes that distinction is muddled. Is it more important for me to have a clean home or to express myself creatively? Will these thoughts be lost if I wait until my home is neat? By the time I get my chores done, the kids will wake up and this moment will be gone. I cannot waste this time. So, how should I use it? Once gone, it cannot be retrieved again. It is lost. Time continues to pass and still I have no answer.
Lord God, please guide me. Help me to see what is important and urgent to You. Help me to be where You want me to be, to receive the blessings You hold for me.
My husband keeps reminding me, “In five years you can do whatever you want to do.” I will be able to write or read or work … whatever I want to do. Our youngest is just ten-months-old. In five years he will be headed off to kindergarten and my days will be mine again.
In five years my days will be my own again. I will have a few hours while the kids are in school to chase after my personal ambitions and dreams. I will have some peace and quiet to accomplish things just for me. In five years my house will always be clean and menus never last-minute. In five years I will no longer have a potty chair in my living room. I will no longer have to vacuum crushed Cheerios out of highchairs. I will get a shower every day.
In five years my little ones will be in school. They will be learning from their teachers and classmates. They will be reading and writing and creating on completely different levels than now. They will be out of my house and out from under my feet.
In five years my days will no longer be spent dancing and chasing and blowing bubbles in the grass. Dandelions and clover will no longer be treasures to be hidden in Mama’s purse. There will be no time for lazy cuddling in the mornings. We will never spend an entire weekday in our pjs. In five years my little ones will no longer be little.
Oh God, please slow down these next five years! Forgive me for wishing away a single moment. Keep me mindful of how fleeting this time is. Help me to cherish every mess I must clean; to laugh at every toe stubbed on toddler toys. Forgive me for sighing at the crumbs in my purse and the fingerprints on my TV. Keep my little ones little and me still. In five years, I can fold clothes and sweep floors and write. Help me to remember what is important in this moment. Everything else will just have to wait five more years.
