Sometimes I feel a bit like my washing machine. I’m not the most expensive model out there, but I get the job done. I am not out with all the other appliances, working where people can see me and getting polished and shined on a more regular basis. I stay in one place, I have one purpose and I have become more and more confident in that purpose every day.
I’m content where I am and I am being used almost non-stop. I basically do one thing, but I do it with variations that make a difference in the outcome. I can do what I do gently, or I can do it quickly. Both of these methods can be effective if done well. I can do a little, or I can do a lot, but I can’t be over filled. I don’t intend to be sensitive or picky, I just have a limit to my capacity.
I thought of this as I was loading a fairly large load of clothes into my washing machine on Friday. I don’t always know where that line is that determines how much is too much. Just because all these clothes fit in the washing machine doesn’t mean they will get clean. So how do I know when it’s just enough? I try to err on the side of caution with my laundry and do more loads of a smaller size. I thought…wow…that’s just like me. I can fit a lot into a day, but that doesn’t mean things are going to be done as they should be. I can go through all the cycles, use the right amount of energy and speed but if my tasks are too tightly bunched together, they don’t get what they need from me. My cousin Cheryl mentioned this over Facebook in a message between us. Time is precious. There is only so much of it, and it needs to be treated with care and respect toward it’s limits. That was Monday night, and added to my Friday epiphany it was beginning to look like something worth sharing.
I have other limits as well. There are things that are unacceptable for me. I do not volunteer at church or school beyond the ministry or focus where I am already involved and committed. Sure, I am capable of serving in other areas, but that doesn’t mean I’m called to do it. You know that saying: “God doesn’t call the equipped, He equips the called.” I would add…just because you are equipped, doesn’t mean you are called. To continue my washing machine analogy, you can’t just throw anything my way and expect me to do it without breaking something, melting something, shrinking something or just failing to achieve my purpose. I am reliable and even versatile but I am not all purpose…that would be flour…and possibly another blog post.
My washing machine and my iron (I’ll have to share that one another day) have both given me life lessons at different times. Good parenting and good time management are, or should be, good friends. I’ve learned to say “no” to a lot of things. I don’t know how other moms with three (or more) kids who are similar ages to mine, home school, and work odd jobs here and there (or even run a business), volunteer at church and school and still manage to look really good when I see them. I question it, I compare myself and then I just say…”no.” It doesn’t matter how they do it, that’s not what I’m created to do. They have their assignment and I have mine. Maybe God gave them Super Duper Capacity, or maybe they have 4 speeds. I don’t have to know. I can be content to work the way I’m made to work. My goal is not to do as much as anyone else, and grab as much out of life as I can. My goal is for God, in all His wisdom, to get as much out of me as He can.
It’s funny that you and I so often have the same thoughts swirling around in our heads. I’ve been thinking lately that the fact that I’m succeeding at homeschool is because I’m not asking anyone what they think I should be doing nor am I trying to do it like other people do it. I know where we’re at and am carefully weighing things to decide whether or not it’s the right thing for now. Actually, I don’t think I can add a single thing to what we’re doing. You know, besides a puppy.
Ah yes. The secret is probably knowing your maximum capacity. You know not to exceed it, but you know you can do it once in a while if you need to. And yeah – comparing myself to other women never gets me anywhere happy. And I much prefer to be happy.