“If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.”
“El hombre propone, pero Dios dispone.”
I don’t know who those two quotes come from, but I don’t care. I’m too tired to Google it, too tired to find a reference book, just too tired.
It seems every morning whether I wake up at 6 am, 7 am or 8am, I wake up behind. Don’t even mention 5am, because I will laugh in your face. My first thought as I open my eyes is one of hurried worry; anticipation for all the things I need to do and all the things I haven’t done. It is a constant race against the clock – get this done before lunch, get that done before we get Lois from daycare, get the other completed before bed… and it goes on and on…
Some weeks I greet Monday with a carefully planned to-do list, lesson ideas, verses to learn, hymns to sing, places to go, only to be met with sickness and vomit and snow days and grumpy old ladies and whiny kids.
Some weeks I roll out of bed with no idea what needs to happen on Monday, or any other day for that matter, and the week turns out exactly the same! How does that happen? And more importantly, why plan at all?
I can’t do it all.
And I don’t even want to do it all. I don’t want fame and riches and a cool job and people to know me. I just want a happy home, kids who are neat and joyful and full of the Spirit, a husband who delights in coming back to us each day and to do my little bit in my corner of the world. Friends too. (Without friends I might just turn into that feral old lady who yells at you for getting near her prize petunias.) Is that too much to ask for?
The problem, I believe, is in thinking I am in control of this crazy life. If only I teach the kids the right thing, they will grow how I want them to. Of course, because I grew up and did exactly what my parents had hoped for me. If only I could keep the kitchen clean, my cooking would be fabulous, I would be happy – and thin for that matter. Really? Are we in control? Of anything?
You all know this, I am sure, but the best days start with prayer in bed. Before the covers go back, before the first book is opened, or the shower turned on. Before whining commences and accidents happen, prayer makes the day begin, dare I say, in a more controlled manner. Controlled in that I realize that it’s ok. God manages it all, I just follow Him and work in my small corner of the world for Him. He will make all things new and good.
Why is that so hard to remember?
Now, not all is lost in the Livo house. It will all change in an hour – I hope. Children will play nicely, the 2 year old will miraculously stop yelling “no” at his mother, dinner will be served and hymns will be sung. The husband will come home with the old lady and be greeted with kisses and smells of pot roast (ok, hot dogs). I will go to bed contented with my small and happy life.
I will sleep off the tired and in the morning I will begin with prayer.
Our verse this week is a much needed Proverbs 17:22. A joyful heart is like good medicine, but a depressed spirit dries up the bones.
May you all sleep off the tired and wake up to prayer.