I am returning to my blog with an Advent confession: though Advent is a time of preparation and awaiting Christ’s coming, I feel anything but prepared. Not just for Christmas and Jesus things, but for life in general. I find myself perpetually in a state of longing for another fifteen minutes (or day or week or month) to get things done.
I am a slave to a never-ending “to do” list and I hate it.
But the alternative is worse. Without a list, I grow even more disorganized. I am absent-minded. If something isn’t written down in an easily viewable, findable spot, I tend to forget it. I try to coax the chaos into neat little lists. I try to keep the list to 3 most important things.
Do those three things, add three more.
But if I were to honestly write down the list of all of the things, it wouldn’t fit on a post-it note. It might fit on a typed page with tiny font.
How much of what I think I ought to be doing actually needs to be done? How much of what “needs” to be done actually gets done? I won’t pretend to keep statistics. I won’t guess at how meek the percentages of accomplishment would be.
Instead, I will wake up each morning. Fight back against the voice of panic that rises in my heart. And I will try to do the important things, apologizing constantly for the people and places I miss out on.
I don’t want to be busy. I don’t want to show up late. I don’t want to miss out on the good stuff. But good golly, I’m exhausted just looking ahead at the next couple weeks. I long for quiet, calm, silence, solitude. I need to carve out time for that or I’m going to blink and it’ll be January.