It’s been a long, great summer – full of trips out of the city, state and country. But really, Dorothy, I agree that there is no place like home. Unless…you are at home for hours without end, holding a teething baby.
Next month, my little baby will be turning one (Insert my crying face). It will be a sad and happy occasion all at the same time. I’m planning a “Mustache Bash” for the little man – hopefully it turns out as cute as it is in my head – and not a creepy Tom Selleck backyard celebration .
Speaking of planning, I recently told Eric a secret that I’ve never told him before – basically, I’m Sherlock Holmes. You know how Holmes plans events in his mind in just the few seconds before they happen? Well, I do that with my life, and I’ve done that as long as I can remember.
In third grade, I distinctly remember walking down the stairs to lunch and planning out what stairs I was going to step on with which foot, which stairs I was going to skip over and how I was going to land on the bottom stair with both feet. I remember envisioning exactly what I was going to eat first in my lunch, and in what order my food was going to be taken out of my lunch box and displayed on the table.
In college, after my morning alarm would go off, I’d lay in bed for about 30 seconds and plan out my entire morning starting with which foot I was going to get out of bed with, what exact pair of pantyhose I was going to wear, and at exactly what time I needed to be walking out the door.
On the way home from Sunday morning church, it is totally normal for me to plan out the events of the next hour and let Eric know what I think they should be. “When we get home, I’m going to get Coby out of his carseat and unlock the front door. I’ll take my shoes off at the front door, set him in his highchair then go get changed into my green sweat pants and purple t-shirt that is hanging on the back of the door. Can you please bring in everything else and then start feeding Coby some goldfish to entertain him? Then I’ll finish feeding Coby and have our lunch on the table by exactly 12:30. If it’s later than that, I’ve totally failed.” And he says, “Whatever you want, I just want to watch the game that is on at 1:00.”
What I don’t say out loud is that I’ve also already planned in my head which arm I’m going to carry Coby in, which of the four hooks I’m going to hang the keys on when I get inside the door, and how many minutes I’ve allowed myself to change before I have to be in the kitchen.
I don’t always say everything out loud that is running through my mind, because the neurotic words and thoughts might worry him. My obsession with planning details might be outside social norms. However, I’m not this way in all areas of my life. My drawers are completely unorganized, I’m terrible at laundry and there is a dead bug in the windowsill upstairs that I’ve been meaning to clean out all week but keep forgetting about.
It’s just that, I’m a little obsessed with planning. I LOVE lists. I love a schedule of events. I love color-coded day planners. I love calendars. I love researching. I love making check marks and crossing things off. I love that feeling of accomplishment after things went exactly as I had planned. Maybe I can channel this disfunction into a high-paying career.
But sometimes (a lot of times), life doesn’t go according to anyone’s plan. All of our paths are already planned out by the Creator. His thoughts and ways are better and higher than ours. This is a life-long lesson that I’m learning and applying daily. God already has a plan for my life, and I need to be content and rejoice in this. His plan is better than anything I could have planned myself. With all of the planning that I do, God is teaching me to be flexible and joyful as I choose to submit to HIS plans.
Off to continue planning the “Mustache Bash” – but before that, I’m going to do a lot of other things that I’ve already planned out in my head and I’m not going to list them all out because then it might make me sound like some sort of weird planning boss (which I kind of am). Someone please tell me that they have this same sort of mental dysfunction when it comes to planning? Just me and Sherlock Holmes?