Updated February 16, 2016
Raise your hand if you’ve found yourself in a season when it’s difficult to keep all the plates spinning.
As I’ve worked from home, this has been especially true for me. The boundaries are blurred, the tasks numerous.
There’s a lot to keep track of.
I have a tendency to put too many irons in the fire. Here’s my crazy pattern:
- Something falls through the cracks. For example, I forget to turn in a permission slip, someone runs out of clean underwear, we have spaghetti for dinner again because I haven’t been shopping in forever.
- Cue the guilt, not just for a permission slip, the underwear or dinner, but because “I’m a failure.”
- I vow to change, so I list all my responsibilities and make yet another weekly schedule because if I just. had. the perfect. schedule, I could do it all.
- Upon listing my responsibilities, I realize most everything requires me to give something. In other words, there are a lot of withdrawals on my soul.
- Upon tweaking my schedule, I realize I can just fit in all my responsibilities. But there’s no cushion.
- I keep to my new schedule for about 2 days, after which I’m frustrated that someone or something always needs me. Plus, I’m not seeing any soul deposits.
- So I decide I need a deposit—an “outlet” just for me—and so I squeeze it in.
- Of course there’s no time, so I get frustrated and take out my frustration on everyone around me.
- I react to my frustration by pouring myself into that outlet thinking it will relieve my frustration.
- All the other things in my schedule take a hit.
- And then something falls through the cracks.
- Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
(What’s the definition of insanity again?)
I have this picture in my head. It’s Jesus, leaving the crowds. To row to the other side of a lake, be with close friends or to seek solitude.
And yet it was always right.
He understood what He should and shouldn’t do. He chose to do only the things He was meant to do and let the rest go.
What went through His mind when He left people standing in the crowd waiting for Him? I wonder what He thought when they said, “Pshaw. I thought you were the Messiah. You’re not meeting my needs.”
It’s not a matter of seeing the good stuff from the bad stuff and only choosing the good, but seeing the good stuff from the good stuff and only choosing the best.
It’s how you look at it.
I’m not a failure.
And neither are you.