Done and Not Done

(written Thursday, Oct 16)

It probably sounds repetitive, but I’m really not sure what to write about. I’m sitting on the floor in my house with a little handy-capped boy named DweeMaySaw crawling around and making happy comments about everything while ChitChitWay is enjoying some down time sitting in the hammock and playing guitar. It’s nice to be home. However I do have exams that I should be checking, and I probably should be getting ready for classes for tomorrow too.

This morning was crazy. I woke up a little bit later than I wished but made it to the early morning Bible study group and was so glad I didn’t miss it. After worship I sent a couple of girls up to my house for an exam that they missed, stayed by for a short teachers’ meeting, then while walking home was being informed by Dad of what I was supposed to teach for his Bible class (I had to call him later to be reminded how 457 plus 27 becomes 483). A moment after giving exams, I remembered I’d better get the papers to Dad for the boys he was about to take to the hospital. The next few hours were almost a blur–getting a bite to eat while prepping for two classes that I hadn’t given any thought to yet, getting things set up for the Truth for Youth presentation for chapel, trying to get a self-shut-off projector to start up again, teaching a fun, though not the best prepared for or listened to, geography class, teaching about and better understanding the 69 weeks, checking on sick students in the dorm, and finally dropping into the hammock for a nap.

I’ll just be honest with you though–sometimes I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything. Our lives are so full, but there are times when you question if what you are doing is really anything. You may have given out a dozen band-aids, bathed down a feverish child, played cars with another, driven to the hospital 45 minutes away to make sure patients are sitting in the right place and paid their bills, taken a bath and washed your clothes by hand, translated for a half-dozen patients at the porch, cleaned up the kitchen, and tended to the random needs of those who come to your house, but you can still wonder what it was that you really did . . .

Why?

. . . because all the while you were trying to not forget all of the things that haven’t been done yet.

And I wonder . . . Perhaps we don’t realize the beauty of our Savior simply because we spend more time thinking about what He hasn’t done than about what He has done.