The Match

About a year ago in my MOPS (mothers of preschoolers) group, the woman that heads it up, Jane, had an eye-opening task for us.  I challenge each of you to do it as you go along, actually writing down your answers.  Don't read ahead before you write your own answers.

Jane:  "On your sheet of paper, write down the three things you spend most of your time doing."

(Pause)

Jane:  "Now, write down the three things that are most important in your life."

(Pause)  Go ahead, write your answers.  I'll wait for you to finish. . .

Here is what I wrote:

The three things I spend most of my time doing:

1) Laundry 

2) Taking care of the kids 

3) Cleaning/cooking

The three things that are most important to me:

1) God

2) My husband

3) My children

Jane:  "Now, see how the match up."

I'm sure you are realizing that my answers did not match up with each other.  Did yours?  I'm telling you, I think about this little "task" more often than you can imagine.  It was shocking to me.  It was confusing to me.  Most of all, it was gut-wrenchingly sad to me.  As I sat on my computer today checking my e-mail, updating Facebook, looking at clothing sales, etc., I was tapped on the shoulder by my conscience and asked if I had forgotten the sinking feeling I had that day so long ago in MOPS.   Did I not remember how I had pledged to make these two lists identical?  Had I already forgotten that my time should be spent with that which is most important to me?  I had.  I do.  Everyday, I have to remind myself.  I don't know why it doesn't just happen that the people and things that are most important to you take up the largest portion of your day.  Or. . . maybe it does.  Maybe it does and that is why I had that sinking feeling when I compared my lists.  Maybe my lack of "me" time has manifested itself in other ways.  After all, if I need some time alone, I'm sure to find it when I'm cleaning the bathrooms, sorting Landry, picking up groceries, vacuuming, cooking supper, and the many other monotonous chores that cloud my days.  Rarely does anyone jump up to join me for those things.  But, I become more and more aware that my priorities are out of whack.  My first-born is already five.  My son wonders why he can't start kindergarten with his big sis.  My "newborn" is half way through her seventh month and rolling all over the place.  

As I am repeatedly reminded throughout the day that time is not standing still waiting for me to get it together, I find myself negotiating the lists.  More importantly, I find myself praying for help to make them match.