Timeline

It's that time of year, when school supplies overflow into our hallway and good intentions fill my mind.

I just got a timeline put up on the wall since this youngest is starting history this year. She's eager to delve into Egyptian history. She's already been sneak reading chapters of Cleopatra's biography. Egyptian history will start at the beginning of the timeline and over about a third of its distance.

When I look at how much of the timeline my own life takes up, it's less than a couple of inches. My daughter's life so far could be measured in millimeters.

We're so blind to history, we who think of ourselves as the center of time and importance.

"All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord stands forever."

I Peter 1:24-25

Trade-offs

Time is money.

At least that's what they say in America.

In other parts of the world, time is time and money is money. There's no practical way to trade one for the other.

Even after being back in the states as long as I was gone, I still find myself struggling with converting time to money. Maybe that's why I find such pleasure in doing things that don't necessarily pay for themselves.

Take gardening. The payoff for hours and weeks and months of work and waiting comes in a crop that would be cheaper at the farmers' market. But the satisfaction I get from harvesting and eating food I planted is worth the work.

Take garage saling. There's no guarantee you'll find a treasure every time you go out, but the pleasure of the hunt makes the day worthwhile.

Take dumpster diving, Sara's term for digging for treasures at our Goodwill outlet store, which we did yesterday afternoon. We dug and sorted and looked and laughed. It took a good part of the afternoon, but I found enough clothes for the kids to get us through the next season, some books for some missionary kids, a fun Christmas decoration (still in its box), and a radio headset for my husband to wear while he works.

Price: $20 + 3 hours
Payoff: the thrill of the hunt

One Nostril At a Time

You learn the funniest things on late night TV. Last night I learned that Cameron Diaz can only breathe through one nostril, the left one. I lay awake thinking about that as my own nose was completely plugged. Did you ever notice that even when both are working, most people only breathe through one nostril at a time?

I used to be a multi-tasker, up to my eyebrows in fourteen different projects. Now, though, I've lost that ability. I have to concentrate on one thing at a time. If I try to do too much at once, nothing is done well.

I'm feeling that pressure to do a bunch of different things right now. I just got back to town an hour ago and my calendar has already filled every night for the next week. So I'm back. That doesn't mean I have to do every thing that comes my way.

I need to take it slow.

I need to breathe through one nostril at a time.