It’s Saturday afternoon. I’m sitting on my couch worn out, coming down with a cold, looking around the house at all the things on the never-ending to-do list that didn’t get finished.
The living room is still dusty. There’s still a chocolate milk stain on the carpet that needs more attention and a lot of elbow grease to remove completely. On my desk papers and other bits of minutia are stacked sky-high, waiting for their proper places. The toy room looks like Santa’s workshop exploded. There freezer is chock full of ingredients for recipes I was going to try that never made it to the table, because I ran short on time and opted for quicker stand-by meals.
A list of blog post ideas a mile long waits for me to write, few with looming deadlines. I have some other personal commitments to keep as well. There there’s the book idea that’s languished on Google Drive in outline form for two months.
The weekend comes, and when I look at my list it seems like another seven days of little accomplished.
What I did do this week? Where did all that time go?
I spent Monday morning in a meeting planning for the mom’s group ministry at church. Tuesday I spent the day just hanging out with my husband and youngest son. Wednesday I took my youngest to the park to enjoy these extra days of warm weather we’ve been blessed with this fall. Thursday morning we celebrated with my mother-in-law at her retirement party. Thursday afternoon and all day Friday I took care of my third grader who came home from school very ill. In between all of that I made sure bellies were full and bums had clean underwear, supervised and checked homework, tucked little ones safely into bed at night and I handed out countless hugs and kisses.
I took care of my family. I loved my family. Come this Monday morning a group of other moms will receive encouragement. Because of what I did this week. Maybe I didn’t get the items crossed off my to-do list, but I did the important things. And that’s all that matters.
I don’t write this to pat myself on the back. I’m sure I could have done more. I sure there are many of you that did do more.
But this for those of you sitting on your couch tired out on Saturday afternoon, staring at the pictures still hanging crooked on the wall for third week in a row and wondering, “Did I do enough?”
Take stock of what you did this week.
What you really did this week.
Were people cared for?
Were people nurtured?
Were people loved?
Then you did enough.
Kids grow up. People move on. Seize the moments with them. That dust? It will still be there next week, thicker than ever.
Beautiful and so true. I think we often use the wrong measure of success. It’s not necessarily a tangible, visible accomplishment, but a slow and steady march of motherhood that keeps a home and family together 🙂