The Idol of Time

After my post last week titled Is Exhaustion the New Status Quo?, I’ve been thinking a lot about how I spend my time and perception I have about busy-ness.

When Olen was born and I was struggling just to get two kids out of the house for playdates and whatnot, I told myself that this was the season in my life where I could stay home instead of being a 24 hour taxi.  That perspective has gotten me through some long seasons, but mostly it’s just turned my need for a hectic life from outside the home to inside the home.

Nonetheless, this week was one where church was cancelled due to the snow and then I ended up at the doctor with Olen on Monday.  Then Tuesday morning he came down with the stomach flu.  ( I’m not typing this for sympathy, just setting up the story).  By Wednesday evening I was FIT TO BE TIED.

You know what my biggest whine was?  “I can’t get anything done!  The house is falling apart!  I’m behind.”

We were not living in filth.  Was the place messy?  Yes.  Was my to- do list getting longer?  Yes. Was anyone dying?  No.

If there was a golden calf in my living room it would be the idol of “getting things done.”  Feeling accomplished.  I don’t like to sit still unless it’s on my own terms and involves ice cream and an episode of Shark Tank or Downton.

I finished a book on time management a few weeks back, and then when I started another one a few days ago.   After about a chapter, I dropped it on the floor and thought- There will be a time for time management and that time is not now.  One of the hardest things for me to face has been finally coming to the complete realization that my time is not my own and I have to be okay with that.

Not I’m not saying I want to be a sloth and play Candy Crush while I let the kids self-govern and eat Cheerios off of the floor, but mamas, we all need some GRACE.  I can have the best of intentions with my time, but then I may have a kiddo with a concussion and the stomach flu.  Life happens.

And really, I can think of times that I was just in a hurry to get somewhere, to finish a chore, or to put a check mark next to some task and so I didn’t stop and talk to my neighbor or look my kids in the eye or was super short and rude with Brian.

The idol of my heart sits in my living room holding a broom and a timer.  It’s me.  I don’t need another Time Management course, I need the Gospel.

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