It's been too long since I've posted. I apologize to any of you who routinely read my posts. The bad news is life has been a little crazy lately. The good news is it's been hectic for (mostly) all the right reasons -- hanging out with my family during Spring Break, celebrating Easter, planning my daughter's birthday bash and trying to meet the ever present writing deadlines which, by the way, I'm oh-so-thankful for! :)
Anyway... I'm back, and here's what I've been thinking about. A few weeks ago, my five-year-old son, Micah, entered a little wooden car in our church's annual Pinewood Derby race. For those of you who haven't been fortunate enough to watch your child's car zoom down a wooden plank to victory, allow me to describe the process. First, lots of little boys (and girls) design, cut out, paint and assemble their own wooden car for the big race. (Micah spelled "Mom" on one end of the car and "Dad" on the other end. Of course, when the announcer asked him which end was the front, he promptly replied, "DAD"! No hard feelings though - really.)On race day, all the cars are displayed on tables for the die-hard fans to admire. Then the race begins. Three cars at a time, divided by the child's age group, are poised at the top of a thin wooden plank - think roller coaster rail. They are released at the same time and, as they cross the finish line, a computer calculates each car's time to determine the ultimate winner.
There are two awards given per age group-- one for design and one for speed. You can imagine which one the boys all want and what a source of pride it is -- for the boys and their dads -- if they win the coveted prize for speed. This year, Micah won third place for speed in his division, which warranted a long-distance call to Grandpa, a self-confessed speed demon and soon-to-be drag racer himself. Micah proudly announced that his car "was almost the fastest out of 18 boys!", as Grandpa congratulated him on the other end of the phone and Steve grinned from ear to ear.
That conversation, combined with the aforementioned craziness in my schedule, started me thinking about which trophy I want. Not for the Pinewood Derby, of course, but for my life. When it's all over, what do I want my life to count for: speed--the busy, hectic, run from here to there at the pace of a world-class sprinter with nothing to show for it except busy-ness itself, or design--a well-crafted way of living that drinks in everything life has to offer. It's a no-brainer, but it's also a constant battle. Like many of you, I want to take long walks in the Spring sunshine, bake homemade chocolate chip cookies for my kids and generally shower my family and friends with endless amounts of energy, patience and love. But the reality is there is laundry to wash, bills to pay, toilets to clean and deadlines to meet. I'm human, so I feel discontent, tired and grouchy more often than I like to admit.
So where is the balance? I have a feeling I'll be asking myself that question on a daily basis for as long as I walk this earth. But a couple of truths keep resurfacing in my life, and I've noticed a pattern. Whenever I keep these thoughts in the forefront of my mind, my days are more fulfilling and less irritating. My priorities stay straighter and my life feels richer. They're not earth-shattering, but they have been life changing: 1) There is not time in each day to do everything, but there is time to do everything that God wants me to do, which ties in closely with #2. "Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness (His way of being and doing), and all these things will be added to you." (Matthew 6:33).
So, with these principles in mind I wake up each morning and visualize what my day "should" look like to accomplish what I need to while still keeping first things first. I like to think of each 24-hour period like it's a lump of clay with no particular form, shape or color. It's up to me to take that ugly mass of "empty" time and craft it into something beautiful. That might mean cleaning my house and running errands, writing at my tiny, garage sale desk for 10 hours straight, sitting with a friend by her child's bedside in the hospital or playing tag with my kids in the front yard. Whatever the rest of my life brings, I know if I listen to my heart and trust God that someday I'll win a trophy too. But it won't be for speed. For me, to hear God Himself say, "Well done, good and faithful servant" (Matthew 25:21) at the end of my journey will be the ultimate reward for design. All that's left to do is begin - TODAY. "Ladies, start your engines!"
Anyway... I'm back, and here's what I've been thinking about. A few weeks ago, my five-year-old son, Micah, entered a little wooden car in our church's annual Pinewood Derby race. For those of you who haven't been fortunate enough to watch your child's car zoom down a wooden plank to victory, allow me to describe the process. First, lots of little boys (and girls) design, cut out, paint and assemble their own wooden car for the big race. (Micah spelled "Mom" on one end of the car and "Dad" on the other end. Of course, when the announcer asked him which end was the front, he promptly replied, "DAD"! No hard feelings though - really.)On race day, all the cars are displayed on tables for the die-hard fans to admire. Then the race begins. Three cars at a time, divided by the child's age group, are poised at the top of a thin wooden plank - think roller coaster rail. They are released at the same time and, as they cross the finish line, a computer calculates each car's time to determine the ultimate winner.
There are two awards given per age group-- one for design and one for speed. You can imagine which one the boys all want and what a source of pride it is -- for the boys and their dads -- if they win the coveted prize for speed. This year, Micah won third place for speed in his division, which warranted a long-distance call to Grandpa, a self-confessed speed demon and soon-to-be drag racer himself. Micah proudly announced that his car "was almost the fastest out of 18 boys!", as Grandpa congratulated him on the other end of the phone and Steve grinned from ear to ear.
That conversation, combined with the aforementioned craziness in my schedule, started me thinking about which trophy I want. Not for the Pinewood Derby, of course, but for my life. When it's all over, what do I want my life to count for: speed--the busy, hectic, run from here to there at the pace of a world-class sprinter with nothing to show for it except busy-ness itself, or design--a well-crafted way of living that drinks in everything life has to offer. It's a no-brainer, but it's also a constant battle. Like many of you, I want to take long walks in the Spring sunshine, bake homemade chocolate chip cookies for my kids and generally shower my family and friends with endless amounts of energy, patience and love. But the reality is there is laundry to wash, bills to pay, toilets to clean and deadlines to meet. I'm human, so I feel discontent, tired and grouchy more often than I like to admit.
So where is the balance? I have a feeling I'll be asking myself that question on a daily basis for as long as I walk this earth. But a couple of truths keep resurfacing in my life, and I've noticed a pattern. Whenever I keep these thoughts in the forefront of my mind, my days are more fulfilling and less irritating. My priorities stay straighter and my life feels richer. They're not earth-shattering, but they have been life changing: 1) There is not time in each day to do everything, but there is time to do everything that God wants me to do, which ties in closely with #2. "Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness (His way of being and doing), and all these things will be added to you." (Matthew 6:33).
So, with these principles in mind I wake up each morning and visualize what my day "should" look like to accomplish what I need to while still keeping first things first. I like to think of each 24-hour period like it's a lump of clay with no particular form, shape or color. It's up to me to take that ugly mass of "empty" time and craft it into something beautiful. That might mean cleaning my house and running errands, writing at my tiny, garage sale desk for 10 hours straight, sitting with a friend by her child's bedside in the hospital or playing tag with my kids in the front yard. Whatever the rest of my life brings, I know if I listen to my heart and trust God that someday I'll win a trophy too. But it won't be for speed. For me, to hear God Himself say, "Well done, good and faithful servant" (Matthew 25:21) at the end of my journey will be the ultimate reward for design. All that's left to do is begin - TODAY. "Ladies, start your engines!"
