the daily list

My therapist (why do I cringe when I begin a blog post with those words? There’s something to work through later) recently mentioned the difference between a master list and a daily list. The master list is everything that needs to be done, or could be done. The daily list is what I can actually accomplish.

I tend to live off the master list. At the end of the day, no matter how hard I worked, I still feel like a failure. I didn’t check all the boxes. But I’ll never be able to do that. I have limits, and I need to use them to craft my daily list. I need to measure my days by what I did do, not what I didn’t. I don’t know if it’s a personality issue or some deep-rooted sin, but I focus on the lines left not-crossed-out.

Yesterday, I tried to take an unscheduled day. I woke early and baked an apple crisp and whipped fresh cream for breakfast, only to have my children complain about the chopped pecans and ask for scrambled eggs instead. Together, we baked a batch of cranberry orange blondies for small group later that night. By noon, my dishwasher had completed two cycles. There was a constant thudding in the house: a headbanging dryer, a washing machine whacking clothes around in an uneven spiral. Books were strewn over the floor, all the stories we’d read over a long, slow breakfast. There was work done, and play: trains and legos, markers and puzzles. Every room of the house seems to offer proof that people live here: dead leaves blown in from all the coming and going outside and in, dried rice glued to the dining room table, heaps of dirtied laundry tossed onto the steps to go up to the hampers for sorting (only to be brought right back down for washing). In the afternoon, I took my children to visit my grandparents. They ate ice cream cones (my grandparents are at an age and stage where they very frequently eat ice cream instead of a meal, and as a result their freezer is well-stocked) and tried to get my grandpa to race them down the hall, completely unaware of the physical limits of aging. Our day ended at small group, eating tacos, my usually introverted son talking and laughing and playing without so much as a glance our way.

When I look back over the day, I can see it was beautiful. And yet, I tend to be studying my master list instead of my daily, slapping it with the pen I use to add more more more to be done.

I want to learn how to glance at my master list for inspiration, and then put it aside. I baked twice. I folded laundry while a two-year-old “helped” (unfolding and resorting). I read books, sat with family without my phone, and gathered with other believers. If only I’d referred to my daily list, maybe I would have come to the end of the day grateful for it, and rested. Instead, I berate myself for everything left unaccomplished on my master list.

I want to learn how to make a daily list that is practical, doable, and still challenging. That does not thrust me into a frantic whirling around, like I’m a dervish instead of a stay-at-home-mom, but helps me use my time wisely. And, I think, using my time wisely is not the same thing as prioritizing productivity. Living off the master list sets me up for both failure and pride. Living off the daily forces to me to consider what truly matters and what I can reasonably manage.

Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best of the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is. And do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit, addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart, giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ.

Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord. (Eph 5:15-22)

Scripture may not tell me how to structure my days, but it does call me to walk with care and wisdom. Slaving all day to keep the house uncluttered, snapping at my children when they undo the work I’ve managed to finish, and then collapsing at the end of the night with a hefty glass of wine probably isn’t the Lord’s will for my life. But maybe if I slow down (a theme I think is featured more prominently in the Bible than I realized when I was younger), and consider what I want to teach my children, it’s not that a clean house is required for life and godliness. But that we can sing hymns and spiritual songs even when the vacuum has gone unused so long I forget where we left it. We can practice gratitude: giving thanks rewires our brains and alters our hearts. We can submit.

I’d rather stop here: submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ. This sounds vague enough to me that I might be able to convince myself I’ve done it, simply because I can’t identify an area where I’ve actively fought against authority.

But then: submit to your own husbands.

I wonder what might happen in my heart, in life, if these went first on my daily list:

Walk wisely, understand the Lord’s will, sing hymns, give thanks, submit to my husband.

I wonder what would happen if I relegated doing dishes washing clothes fetching dog going to playground protecting free-ranging hens from Satanic hawk to the bottom of my list. Those things have become habits: the sink is full, load the dishwasher. Hamper is overflowing, throw in a load. Kids are wild with pent-up energy, drive to the park. Those things will be done eventually.

But walking wisely—will I do that, without thinking about it? Would I ever subconsciously submit to my husband? Choose to practice gratitude when my usual temperament is grumpy?

I need to learn how to live off the daily list. I know that. And my hope, my prayer, is that I will make a daily list that gives life and deepens faith, not just gets a feasible number of chores accomplished. Raising children and keeping a house is hard work, but it’s not the only work.