There's My Plan, or We Could do My Plan...

Yes, this week has been challenging. Our school had a memorial service for Jessie on Saturday. My husband and I wanted to go, although neither of us had met her. I think we were feeling a sympathetic grief as parents. DH was invited to play the piano at the service which gave him an invitation and opportunity to Do Something.

I didn't go, since our daughter didn't know the girl and I was dealing with my own drama that day. It was the first free day I'd had at home and I was all motivated to move heaven and earth (or at the very least, rearrange the dust around the house), and I woke up with a tension migraine. I was puzzled, aggravated and frustrated. Puzzled, because I'd had a massage the day before. Aggravated, because "how dare my body rise up in rebellion like that?!" (And after all I had done for it!) Frustrated, because I had no time to be sidelined.

You know what? I've spent the whole week griping about that. About how my weekend didn't go as I planned. About how I don't have time to do what I need to do and then, when I do have time, this happens.

Why?

Why am I still whining about this?

Because I don't like not being in control.

It makes me mad when I think I've orchestrated my circumstances to my specifications and a monkey wrench knocks them off kilter.

I fret because I know that another weekend will have to roll around again before I really have time to Get Things Done.

And then, there are a myriad of other things to fret over, so my mind turns thoughts over and over like so many worry beads.

Then I am reminded of the verse in Matthew 6:27 that says: "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?"

I'll give it another shot this weekend. I'll do what I can where I can and leave the rest to another day.

And maybe I'll have time to make a cool necklace out of those worry beads.