Journal June 7, 2017

There are seasons and rhythms of our lives when things go dead and sometimes when they sprout to new life. Years, months, weeks, and days cycle round and round. What I do this day may seem very insignificant, yet small habits yield big results and can set the course of my history.

I seem to be in a special season right now, however brief, without clients daily clamoring for my time. For three days my husband will be golfing, and I have potential alone time. I think of all the things I could do with this precious gift, and I feel conflicted. I know what my heart wants to do, and that is to write. And so, I indulge myself. It feels like pure joy and delight to organize thoughts, rearrange them, and make them permanent by recording them. I asked the girls about writing a blog, and I got a resounding yes! Is this a priority? Do I have the time . . .?

VISUAL: I’m a disciple in the boat on the Sea of Galilee, and Jesus is about to walk by. I call out to Him, “Will you join me in the boat?”

He is more than willing. He climbs in, sits, and hands me some bread. It’s just the two of us.

“You’re worried,” He comments.

Yes, I suppose I am. I wait for Him to tell me what about, but I know Him well. He will pause to let me figure it out.

“I’m worried that I will not use my time wisely. Time is a finite commodity.”

I find it easier to function with a predetermined schedule, decisions in place, and brain on autopilot. It reminds me of scheduled time at boarding school with bells and sirens that dictated our routine. Decisions were made for us. Summers, on the other hand, were wide open with no expectations, and laziness was sure to follow.

“Go on,” He prompts.

“I don’t want to waste it.”

“Are you wasting it?” He asks.

I don’t think I am. Then what’s the issue? It’s a matter of portioning it out to match the allotted time I have at my disposal.

“You’re feeling rushed—like you want to do what your heart wants to do, but your head is giving you alternative coulds and shoulds.”

Yes! That’s it! So how do I silence those words and voices? I want to write, but my head says, “You need to file and exercise and clean house and visit neighbors.” This issue is about alone time—there are certain things I can do best when I’m uninterrupted.

Jesus leans back, hands behind His head and smiles at me. “You have a problem, then, don’t you?”

I know He’s teasing me. I’m way too serious and stressed over this.

“What do you want to do?” He asks.

“Write!” I exclaim.

“But . . .?”

I feel rising exhilaration . . . and guilt.

I ask Him for a visual. He shows me a row of boxes, some smaller, some larger, each containing one task on my to-do list.

During my time allotted for each box, I have permission to compartmentalize and block out all the other thoughts that belong to other boxes.

And so, just for today, I’ll write, uninterrupted, without guilt or remorse. I’ll seize the precious time that I have and just focus. The dirty dishes can wait.

A 2024 Update. I smile as I read back on this journal entry. I feel no guilt now whatsoever over taking time out of a busy (or not-so-busy) schedule to write. It’s one of my default activities along with sitting at my dining room table arranging jigsaw puzzle pieces. Reading a book in the middle of the day, though—now that feels decadent. Perhaps I need to address any emotion behind that thought!