Today, I spent mine cleaning the house, doing taxes and getting the kids caught up on missing schoolwork. It was a rather uninspiring day. Outside was gray and cold and rainy. Inside, I flipped between entertaining a toddler, helping with math and finding tax documents. This led to a daylong meditation on how we choose to spend our days -- or sometimes, how our days choose to spend us.
Lately it feels more like the second. Emails, school assignments, work priorities, laundry, dinner, crying baby, a planner full of misc appointments -- a doctor for this one, a teacher conference for that one, some school fundraiser, various minor holidays and school theme weeks. It feels like an endless list of things I didn't choose but somehow have to do. And I wondered -- how much can I live out my faith if my life is being dictated to me? Or is it? Did I choose this list as part of a call I took on and living in response to all these small demands is exactly what it means to live out my faith?
Guys. I'm struggling here. Which is it?
I remember in 2020, all this minutia fell away and it was just me and my babies in the house. Motherhood became raw and hard in a way I hadn't ever felt but it also became more of a spiritual practice than I had ever considered it to be as I found space to be intentional with my children and to raise them without the distraction of the outside world placing excess demands on me.
On the other hand, community is an essential part of being human and living out our faith. Community comes with ice cream socials, potlucks, classroom fundraisers and spirit days. The anthropologist in me is quick to point out how important all these things are to building and maintaining weak social ties. The theologian in me responds with how we are a body with many parts and it is our essential call to love each other -- sometimes love is going to the stupid thing you don't want to go to because that's what it looks like to show up.
But as I lay open my planner, I try to find mental space to be intentional. I look for gaps in my schedule and I weigh -- should this be downtime, God time, giving to others time, feeding the hungry time? Half the time, I don't even have the time to open my planner -- the day starts and I just do the things and go to bed. And I feel -- conflicted. Part of me knowing that this is what it looks like to live selflessly. To follow through on calls God has given me in this time, in this place. The other part of me thinking -- this is suburban hell. It looks nothing like the life that Jesus has called me to live.
A few months ago, I had to give a sermon on All Saints Day. One line that has stayed with me is -- one day, our planners are empty. There will be no more pages to write. Did I live well the days I had?
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