I’m a planner. And I am good at it.
From my mom, I learned how to make lists and schedules and do it all.
From my dad, I learned the value of hard work (enter Chad’s jokes about me being a dairy farmer’s daughter).
From my husband, I learned that I schedule 110% of my time.
I recently found myself ready to go for an appointment, with 5 minutes before I had to leave. Five minutes. I can do something with that. I stripped the bed, grabbed the towels, and headed for the laundry room. However, once there I realized Eli’s laundry was still in the washer from the day before. Eli! Laundry! In his not-quite-awake stupor, he threw his wet laundry into the dryer, which contained Grace’s laundry from the day before. Sigh.
So then I found myself pulling the wet from the dry, impatient, short with my son. I only have 5 minutes!
It dawned on me that I hadn’t been using my time wisely. My son comes before the laundry. He comes before my desire to use every minute to its fullest. If I can’t be patient in those 5 minutes, I probably shouldn’t fill them.
And now, I sit on my porch, listening to the rain, to the girls playing piano and singing together, to birds, for the quiet whisper of God. I am thankful for margin and rest, for growing, pausing, listening.