You don’t know how much I look forward to Thursdays. It’s when my weekend starts. I plan ahead of time what I’m going to do. The list grows long. Not going into details, I clean, do laundry, get my groceries, pay bills, and prepare something warm to eat. I try to hit the gym as well.
What about the books to read and write? I have about six hours to get most of these tasks done before my boys are back. I’m racing against time, always running but getting behind. At this time in my home phone calls or interruptions aren’t allowed.
If you’re wondering, I never reach the end. I get impatient like my six year old during our car rides when he asks a million times, “Are we there yet?”
This morning was no different. After I made beds, packed lunches, prepared breakfast, and made sure my kids looked decent enough, it was time for me to eat something. On other days, I don’t get a chance.
When I picked up a bowl of hot milk from the microwave, my older son without any warning laughed too loud from something he was watching on TV. As the eerie sound reached my ears (I was still sleepy), I dropped the bowl. The bowl landed on the stove. It didn’t break, and I breathed a sigh.
But you guessed it right. The milk spilled everywhere, wetting my yoga pants, the stove, countertops, cabinet doors, and the kitchen floor. Did it have to happen just before I had to get the kids for school? After I yelled, there wasn’t any time to feel sorry for myself.
As I removed my sticky slippers and was careful not to make more footprints, God made sure I woke up this morning. He stopped me in my tracks. Was God laughing at me? I can’t be sure, but my son’s laugh stayed with me through the ride to school.
Later in the day when I finally cleaned the whole mess, the sun beckoned me to lighten up.
“We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps” (Proverbs 16:9).
I remember a Polish saying. It’s about a turkey thinking about the upcoming Sunday, but on Sunday the poor turkey was beheaded.
Yes, do plan but don’t lose your head in the process.