I had a dream last night, or early this morning to be exact. I dreamt that it was my turn to bring football drinks and fruit for halftime (which it is) and that I got to the game—and all the way to halftime!—before I remembered. In my dream, it was an away game (tonight we’re at home) and I ran to the concession stand to buy drinks for the team. And guess what? I had no cash! So I asked if I could use my debit card. They said no.
I remember in my dream looking at the little machine on their table and blinking in wonder. “You don’t take debit cards?” I asked. I pulled out another card. “How about credit?”
The little girl (read: teenager) working the concession stand pulled out a piece of paper. “Yes, we take those things, but not from you. We checked your account balance and it is insufficient.”
“What?!” I cried. I couldn’t tell if I was more outraged by her checking my account or the fact that I knew I had enough money in there for this.
Off I raced with my empty wallet, determined to find a bank and a grocery store. Time cut to my return to the football field where, when I’d left, the score had been 6-6. Our players were making their way to the cars, heads down.
“What happened?” I asked the nearest person.
“45’d,” was the answer. (The six-man football mercy rule.) The other team had scored 45 points (and us, 0) in the time I’d been gone.
I was furious—with myself. In this dream, I berated myself for a head so full of writing that I overlooked what I needed to do for my boys. It was an awful dream, and one of the most vivid I can remember lately. But you can be sure that I won’t forget to send drinks for the football team this evening!
It’s a busy, busy week this week. So much on my calendar that is not my own. And yet I have my own agenda, too. How will it all get done? Inevitably, I get little sleep the night before a week like this. I toss and turn trying to fit all my plans into the coming days, but it feels like fitting pieces into a puzzle of a snow-covered landscape. Finally, finally—after all that wrangling—I give my week to the Lord, asking Him to arrange it, to make time for what needs to be done and to give me wisdom to not worry about the unimportant. It still takes a while to release the need to figure it out, but eventually I sleep.
Why do I do that? Why do I wait so long to do what needs to be done at the very first hint of anxiety?
I woke early this morning, again anxious, but again releasing my day, my week, into the hand of the Lord. After a cup of coffee and another glance at my calendar/to-do-list, I found it manageable, as long as I remain focused. The hours are there to accomplish what I must. But another question lingers: will I use those hours to their fullest potential instead of frittering away valuable time?
With a deep breath and another prayer of relinquishment, I determine that I will.
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Phillipians 4:13
Fall has truly inched its way into Texas. I love this time of year. The nights and mornings are cooler now. My sweet tooth craves candy corn. My dinner menus include lots of soup. I pull out my jeans and my longer sleeved shirts. Football is in full swing. Pumpkin pies will be made and eaten. Summer seems a long, hot dream—one I have no desire to revisit soon.
But mostly what I love about autumn is the promise of winter that tinges the air. I’m so glad God made the seasons to change.