"Given infinite time and infinite resources, anything is possible."
Dr. Lengle, one of my grad school profs presented this idea on the first day of class, the day I started my MA program. And it is one of the most valuable things I learned during my time at Georgetown. I think about it all. the. time.
Because the reality is that I don't have unlimited time or unlimited resources. In fact, both are extremely limited. And I bet yours are too. Rare, so very rare, is it that I feel like I have "a few extra minutes" or "a few extra bucks." I don't. And I bet you don't either.
What that means is that I must spend the limited resources I have in a way that gets the most result with the least input. Or it means I spend my limited time on the most valuable things, though sometimes urgency trumps value.
All three of my children are down right now - the boys for naps, the girl is reading to herself in the reading nook. I can hear her "read" her memorized version of Fancy Nancy as I type. These moments of three being down are rare. And the moments of me having enough mental fortitude to write something for me, to feed my soul, express my creativity, remember these blessed days are becoming much fewer and farther between.
But isn't that, in itself, a blessing? There is stuff in my life that just clutters it, but not much. There is stuff in my life that is hard and that I wish wasn't there, but doesn't that make the things that are good only feel that much more wonderful? There are endless to-do lists, reminders for appointments, dishes, laundry, cooking, cleaning (oh, how badly my bathroom needs serious attention...), but shouldn't I be grateful that I can do these things? That there are people I love dirtying dishes and laundry? People for whom I get to cook and clean? That my body is strong enough to undertake these tasks? My goal has become to clean just enough that we can function well, but not so much that I miss the goodness of these days.
And I lose it. I lose my patience (especially when I've lost sleep). I lose my cool. I lose myself. I lose my sanity. I lose my contentment.
That last one. That one is hard. Because when I'm content I can function joyfully. But discontentment steals my joy in serving, in giving, in loving, in life.
Then I have to reground myself. I may not have steak or salmon every night, but I never wonder where the next meal is coming from. I may not have time to fold all the laundry before the dirty clothes pile up again, but I do have clothes to wear, and they're clean (albeit wrinkled). I may not have a bedroom for each child, but I have family overflowing out of the 2 bedrooms I have.
Blessed.
And grateful.
And sometimes it's hard.
But always the struggle is worth the effort.
Bills are waiting to be paid. The dog needs to be bathed and shaved (and let me tell you, that ain't happening today!). The kitchen is a pit. The bathroom is even worse.
But get this - my sweet 2 year old is potty training and he peed off the front step right before nap time! And he pooped in the potty at a friends house! Ugh! I am SOOO proud of him it feels like my heart is bursting! And my 8 month old is learning to balance and cruise around everything, and I think (fingers crossed) he's starting (after a few months of very erratic sleep) to sleep longer periods at night. And my 4 year old can read many 3 letter words and the world around her is exciting to her and she just can't be filled up enough with interesting facts or information.
These days are already a blur. I hear it only gets worse and that I'll hardly remember them, if at all, someday. With limited time and limited resources I'm doing what I can to live in these tiny days but also to do things to remember them so that in the days to come I can look back and treasure each precious memory.
With unlimited time and unlimited resources, anything is possible. But limits force us to prioritize and choose. May I choose well each day, these tiny days.
