I’m used to the bustle of a busy household, with lots on the go, because God has blessed me with a great husband and four active, inquisitive kids. More often than not, I’m tired just trying to keep up, but it’s what I’m accustomed to. With family members out of town, however, I’ve been alone for the better part of two days. I can’t remember the last time I had so much time on my hands, and I hardly know what to do with myself. Although my cats are lovely, it’s hardly the same around here with five people temporarily missing.
When I’m busy at my job, I think of all the things I’d like to do at home if I just had a few hours. I’d clean that overstuffed closet, reorganize the laundry room, tidy the cellar, you name it. Now that I have more than a few hours, I find that I’ve done none of the above. Aside from necessary errands and chores, I’m surprised to find that I’ve been allowing myself a little bit of … space: to be, to breathe, to reflect. I’m spending time reading, thinking, writing. Ordinarily, I spend so much of my time consumed with doing things with physical, tangible, visible results, that I forget about looking after the invisible parts of me.
Sometimes I shake my head in wonder at my foolishness. Looking back, I should already have more than learned the lesson that my heart, my soul, my spirit are far more important than the state of the laundry room or the hall closet. A couple of times in my life, I have let myself become separated from the things that really matter, and the price was terribly high. I will not blindly go there again! So, for the rest of today, I will immerse myself in this rare time alone, and concentrate on what matters: thanking God for the blessings in my life, and considering where I am headed. Sometimes, instead of worrying about “doing”, I should just think about “being”, and allow myself a little breathing room.