Seasonal Achievements
I wake up every morning and I think about all the stuff I can get done during the day if I just work smarter, time manage more effectively, and don't waste any time. Then by the end of the day, I can see just how little I've accomplished and just how exhausted I am, and I realize why I don't finish more of the items on my list. And the why might be connected to the five kids I finally managed to tuck in bed. But by the next morning, I'm sure that I'll be able to fit in just 20 minutes of flute practice or finish an actual blog (without having to stop two paragraphs in and then never completing the rest) or make actual headway on the book that I'm editing for a friend. Because surely I will handle things better today. Surely I will figure out a way to do All the Things!
But lately I've been thinking of a different time in my life. The summer before my senior year of high school I discovered that I was short two years of PE. I signed up for a weight lifting class (which I used to take long walks off campus with my best friend instead of actually lifting weights) but that only covered half of the necessary credits. The powers-that-be agreed to a self directed summer program to count for the other credit. That summer my goal was to be able to run 5 miles in 40 minutes. By the end of the summer, I could run 5 miles in 40 minutes and 22 seconds, but I never managed to cut those 22 seconds off, and it drove me nuts. Fast forward fifteen years, and suddenly my body can knock out 5 miles in less than 40 minutes, and I don't even feel like I'm about to die at the end.
What I'm learning from this is that there are seasons (wow, it's like I've never had to learn this lesson before...). There are years when some goals are met and others are not. There is ebb and flow. But we are rarely in a season when everything works together seamlessly and our strengths are playing out on all fronts. Probably because then we would find ourselves drifting off on the wind, held aloft by our over-inflated heads...
This season has been a good one in many ways, if a hard one in many others. I can get frustrated about the personal goals that are not being met, or I can rejoice in the ones that (miraculously) are and in the other ways our family is learning and growing--even if those ways are not as tangible as published blog posts or a package in the mail to my friend with her (fully edited) book that I luckily evacuated with.
Yesterday instead of practicing flute, I helped my daughter work through a tantrum. Instead of blogging, I taught my sons how to look for hope in dark places. Instead of plowing through my work that I deem important, I got to serve dinner to my grandmother. Maybe tomorrow there will be editing or music or completed phone calls or new car tags. But for today, there is still so much.
{Thank you for still taking the time to read when I post. I know it doesn't happen often these days. Thank you for continuing to pray for us as well. We have plans in the works to get our family back together by the middle of January. The Man is continuing to fight the good fight on our recovering base while the kids and I redefine home for a while at my parents'. Next step will involve a very large RV, not a whole lot of personal space, and boundless opportunities to learn patience and look for beauty.}
But lately I've been thinking of a different time in my life. The summer before my senior year of high school I discovered that I was short two years of PE. I signed up for a weight lifting class (which I used to take long walks off campus with my best friend instead of actually lifting weights) but that only covered half of the necessary credits. The powers-that-be agreed to a self directed summer program to count for the other credit. That summer my goal was to be able to run 5 miles in 40 minutes. By the end of the summer, I could run 5 miles in 40 minutes and 22 seconds, but I never managed to cut those 22 seconds off, and it drove me nuts. Fast forward fifteen years, and suddenly my body can knock out 5 miles in less than 40 minutes, and I don't even feel like I'm about to die at the end.
The Man and I standing on the site where our new home will be parked. Totally upgraded for a water view. |