Sweet Potato Pancakes, Part Deux

I wrote this post the other night, then immediately read this post.  And I was nearly drowning in self-loathing.  So much time and energy and money poured into sweet potato pancakes and there's this world out there.  Starving, hurting, lonely, dying.  People starving and I have a variety of groceries at the ready.  Hurting, and I am held by Love.  Lonely, and I have my husband and two beautiful girls.  Dying, and I am healthy.

And there's this sweet baby girl waiting for a heart.  And all these people who are flooding her family with love notes.  And I thought about finding a pen and a card and a stamp.  Or even sending an email.  But I didn't and now I'm sorry.

Could I have made better use of my time?  Money?  Resources?

And, this is my constant struggle when I don't run everything, and I mean EVERYTHING by God first.

Everything from my daily plans to my grocery list.  My grocery list?  You better believe it.

Not that I always do.  Don't misunderstand me.  I just know that when I pray about everything, even my trip to the grocery, life flows better.  SO much better.  Even if there are problems, there is peace.  No guilt, no second-guessing if I've done everything I should have done.  Just peace that I did what I felt God wanted me to do and peace that He will take care of the rest.

And I didn't really pray through the day.  I cleaned like a maniac.  I made time-consuming sweet potato pancakes (that my man could have gone his whole life without, so...not really a great expression of love there).  But did I spend any time with my sweet girls?  No.  Call or send that text to my sister-in-law to ask how my brother was feeling?  No.  Do anything to encourage anyone?  No.

And thus the guilt.  I worked through my agenda.

My agenda:  vacuum, mop, laundry, dishes, cook, read...

His agenda:  love.

And the disparity only hit me when I read Ann's post and her words cut me like a knife:

Being radical is as radical as answering God’s call — wherever you are, right where you are.

To pick up the phone and dial that number, to invite that one person over, to make that meal, to write that note.

To make the time to love because what else in the world is time for?

Time is made for love… and we have time for this.

I have time for this.  Lord, help me realize, I have time for this!

(It was 10 o'clock at night when I wrote this, when He reassured me it's never too late to love.  So, I sent the email.  And the text.  And I prayed His agenda would be my priority the next day, and the next, and... not the last thing I check off my list before going to bed.  Amen and amen.)