To-do Lists and Age Lines

My mom was (and presumably still is) a list maker. I hated them. It seemed like there was a pile of things on the paper that could never be completely accomplished in the little time I had to do them. (I usually had ample time at the start, I would just put things off until there was minimal time left. Hmmm I still do that...) But as I've gotten older and lived on my own, I think I'm becoming more of a list maker than my mom. There is nothing more satisfying than getting up knowing that there are things that I must accomplish that day, and having the little check boxes next to them that I can cross off. Most days I don't get to all the check boxes. On the rare days I do, I do a happy dance in my mind. My list for this weekend is ambitious. Joe is off to the Poconos with his bro. It was supposed to include the guys in Joe's life group as well, but they all bailed on him. It's probably better, Joe needs some time with his brother. He's been talking about doing something like this forever. So, of course, this is the weekend we're hosting a superbowl party on Sunday, and of course I have to teach most of the day on Saturday as well as oversee a bake sale/empanada sale to finish raising the money for our trip to Battlecry next weekend. I have my own life group tomorrow, I'm attempting to get to the pool twice a week to practice swimming so that I don't drown during the triathalon in September, and I'm wondering how on earth I'm going to get all of this stuff done. I even have a list of 30 things I want to do while I'm 30. I think I have one thing crossed off of it. So I have a lot of planning to do... While I was sitting at the computer earlier printing out recipes for Sunday (yes, I promised Joe I'd keep it easy, which for me is only 5 courses instead of 7...thanks for that one too, mom!) I started flipping through this old photo album we keep in the cubby next to the desk. It's mostly from our honeymoon and from our first Christmas. I was talking to a dear friend the other day about the craziness in my head about wanting to feel fabulous and only feeling like a failure. And I looked at those pictures and thought, how beautiful I was then. But did I think that as I was experiencing them. Or, like now, did I feel frumpy and out of place. Will I look back in 5 years on pictures of me now and wonder why I didn't relish the lack of age lines on my face (yet again, thanks mom!) will I wonder why I spent more time worrying and stressing then enjoying how good I had it? All the experts say to get a better night's sleep, write down your worries on a list and then forget about them til morning. My list is nearly every line of a yellow pad long. And I don't want to go to bed because I'll be sharing it with the divot maker rather than the hubby. Yet some nights I'll crawl into bed frustrated at the bigger of the two divot makers (that would be hubby) because he's too close to my pillow. Didn't the Stones say "you can't always get what you want, but you get what you need." Well, tonight I need simply to be at peace with the here and now. Yes, I want a fabulous home with a gigantic kitchen and a job that sounds 'status-worthy', but I don't need that. I need to know that I am who God made me. Exactly as I am, and that is ok, and more than ok. I need to give myself permission to be pleased with myself and know that I am beautiful. I need the peace that only God can give. My list can wait. My mind cannot.