I'm writing this on Wednesday. I glance over at the clock: 1:00. I have only one hour until I leave for work. Working each day, even if only 4 hours, makes the rest of my life feel hectic. But part of that is my fault. Part of it is perspective.
Monday was crazy: prayer time at church, errands, then work, get home after 6:00, gulp down some supper, then off to community chorus, and back home at 9:30. Not much time at home.
Tuesday was just as bad: Off to church before 9:00 for a community event/lunch there, dash home about 1:30, be at work around 2:00, home after 6:00, gulp down supper, back to church for weekly Bible study, home before 9:00. By then, I'm really missing home.
Today I took Julia to school in New Bern at 8:45, home for lunch. Now I have only one hour until I leave for work.
Or should I say instead, "I have a whole hour! Wow! What a luxury compared to some people!"
I don't want to slip into complaining. It's too easy to be disgruntled and discontent. And for what reason? Because I'm busy, productive, active, working? Because we have a busy church and I have busy children? Those are all things to be thankful for.
Now it's 1:09. I think perhaps I'm settling into a good routine at work; the kids and I are beginning to understand each other. I took massive amounts of my boys' old legos yesterday for them to play with, and the boys there were so excited, so focused, so quiet. Sometimes you find something that works.
Tonight I'll have an evening at home, at last. Adam is mowing and tilling the field this week and making satisfying progress. And ... he says he enjoys it! That's amazing to me -- hot, buggy outdoor work that's labor intensive. But he does. The first tilling of the field is always the hardest, turning up old sod, battling the grass. I'm thankful.
1:11. Forty-nine whole minutes to enjoy!