It's funny because the process of reading this book was kind of a wake-up call for me. I realized about halfway through that I was guilt-tripping myself into reading it. What kind of woman-who-has-it-all-together takes almost a month to finish a book when she's trying to complete a ridiculously unreachable goal? That is a trick question because a. who has it all together and b. who cares?
A long time ago, I read about a man who does everything sacredly. If he is walking his dog, he puts his whole heart into it. Baking a cake? Every thought goes to the cake. Building a toothpick bridge for his kid's science class? Literally sweating with focus while discussing architecture with his son. You know what I mean? I realized that I want to be like that. And being like that, I think, means that we eliminate the distractions as much as we can.
I can do anything, but I can't do everything. At least, not well.
I can give my kids all of my attention while I'm playing with them, but I can't do that and pregnancy pilates and myfitness pal and thirty minutes of focused cardio simultaneously. In that moment I have to choose.
I can bake cookies for my sweet neighbor with the help of two little cuties who insist on running their fingers through the flour because it feels so awesome (and consequently ends up coating the counter and flour... and their heads), and I can laugh and play and not worry about the mess. Or I can try to make cookies AND call our internet provider about them upping our bill AND make my lesson plans for joy school in the same hour. Which equals nothing really getting fully accomplished, a messy kitchen and sad kids.
Everything has its season, and right now mine is to be present with my kids, to love my husband like crazy, to serve when and where I can and to do things that make my home and heart feel at peace. That's all. Everything else is secondary and on an "if I have extra time and energy" basis (confession... rarely do I have extra time and energy).
And while it seems like maybe this should be depressing - realizing limitations and accepting them - it's actually very liberating. It's like saying to the universe, "Go ahead, hurl your volunteer sheets at me and make it necessary for me to call every provider because they keep overcharging us. Put beautiful people around me so that I'm tempted to compare myself and despair when I can't look like them. Tempt me with projects that I know I shouldn't begin because I don't even know why I want to do them. Throw it all at me. I'm untouchable! I can do anything!"
But not everything.