Every once in a while I have all of my stuff together. The other 51 weeks in the year, I feel like I’m barely making it.
I figured out a long time ago that one obvious solution to this coming-apart-at-the-seams feeling is to just pick one or two areas of my life to do really well at any given time and just let the rest sort of coast. Sometimes this means I’m kicking butt at schoolwork while my house is a disaster. Other times I’m taking great care of my body with lots of running and cooking while the ungraded papers start to pile up. And when the undone feeling in that neglected area gets too great, I spend a day or two catching up and readjust my focus for the next week or so. I’ve come to be fine with this rhythm. At peace with it, actually.
I can’t say that the work is finished or that somehow I can fully describe to you what has happened, but this has been a school year of Jesus readjusting my priorities in an even bigger way. And as lame as this might sound, I have to admit that it started with the long delayed obedience of quitting the Facebooks. It took me a while to connect those two dots…my prayer for readjusted priorities and Jesus’ call to give up this huge time suck on my life. But…uh…hello!?! Makes sense, doesn’t it? Give up this thing that brings no glory to anyone but myself and gain time to bring glory to Jesus.
It’s still a work in progress, but I just feel myself finally pouring less of myself into the bring-glory-to-me things and more into the bring-glory-to-Him things.
So somehow this is all connected to what I thought I was going to write about when I sat down here…my dining room floor.
It’s disgusting really.
Tonight after dinner I noticed just how bad it was. But I decided not to clean it.
I decided to load the dishwasher and put the leftovers away but leave the floor. My family was outside in the front yard ready to go for a walk. The bits of paper and the crumbs and the who knows what else can wait. As I shut the front door I chimed to Jay for the third or fourth time this weekend, “Halfway is okay*!” And we walked, and it was fun. We waved at new neighbors and watched helicopter seeds twirl and practiced looking both ways at stop signs. There was Bubba poking Jay in the butt and Jay pooting in Bubba’s poor face and lots and lots of laughs. The dining room floor is still waiting, and no one cares.
So just in case you need permission tonight, friends, halfway really is okay.
Clean half of the dishes.
Grade half of the papers.
Eat half of your meals healthy this week.
Or go for a half mile walk instead of none.
Put away half of the laundry.
And use the rest of the time to snuggle a few more minutes or shoot a few more hoops on the driveway or read another book at bedtime. You’ll be glad you did.
Less glory for me; more glory for Him.
*P.S. While I wholeheartedly believe that, “Halfway is okay,” applies to any and all housework situations, there are plenty of occasions where this mantra does not apply. Say, for example, keeping matches away from little people, baking chicken, or covering private parts. Use responsibly.