“There is a time for everything.
And a season for every activity under heaven.” – Ecclesiastes 3:1
I’m slowly realizing that these are not the same time.
Hungering to pick up the violin, the responsibilities of helping to teach in Sunday school, giving of my best for orchestra, working a 40 hour week, aching to read the stack of books beside the Large Comfy Chair, needing to hang the beautiful red curtains I bought to separate my little washroom area from my kitchen, gathering information on Poland so I know better how to write our Polish missionary, doing Pilates everyday and praying to God that I will not bang my feet on the glass table any longer, wanting to have the piano moved down here right away, stifling the urge to scan every single picture I have simply because I now have a gorgeous flat as pie scanner, wishing restoration was a given, feeling overwhelmed at the thought of writing 50,000 words on a topic that is very real to my heart, longing for the bitter cold days of Autumn to arrive, hoping that I’m finally learning how serious some choices are, having to figure up the cost for selling pigs (Can you believe people are wanting to BUY these pigs now? Good Lord. They are just pigs!), wanting to buy a guitar because I miss playing so much, and so much more.
But I only have 24 hours in each day. And it’s hard to balance all of that with the realization that seeking His face is most important. Maybe it’s not difficult for you. But I’m a normal girl who struggles with remembering that I wasn’t made for these tangible, small bits.
So if the curtains continue to lie on my loveseat and if the stack of books beside the Large Comfy Chair goes unread, I will at least choose to do the things that matter right now.
I’m learning my limits.