Until I stopped I had no idea how much I was doing. The additional challenges, opportunities and responsibilities that accumulate in running a ministry organization become standard, normal, expected, and every day is a whirlwind. Lost in the wake of all the pressure and activity are the small things -- things like noticing that a piece of my roof has blown off.
Small things like finally constructing a will.
Small things like working our way through the hope chest. I had forgotton that the cedar chest the kids in our tutoring program sit on every week in our living room was a hope chest made by Tina's grandfather, and contains what all hope chests do -- precious junk that should be reviewed and re-stored every few years.
Small things like replacing missing pickets in our fence, shredding 10 year old files, and trimming eyebrows and toenails.
Small things like sorting through, reflecting on and making decisions about things passed down to us -- Tina's Mom's rings, her Dad's silver belt buckles, mementos, etc.
None of these, of course, are small. This is the stuff of life, and we were neglecting it. Its amazing what one will neglect when one is piloting the ship.
I never anticipated that sabbatical would also mean the recovery of the small things. Thank you, God.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
lovin this blog
j&H
I wondered when you were going to get around to trimming those eyebrows.
Your blog causes me to stop, close my eyes a moment, the proceed more slowly. Thanks brother.
Post a Comment