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Green Markers and Glass Balls
by Keri Wyatt Kent
It’s 9:20 p.m., and I’m at the computer, working on
an article. My writing often gets done once the chores
of the day are completed and my little ones are asleep.
The phone rings. It’s a friend, asking if I can watch
her 2 and 4 year old girls tomorrow morning for an hour
while she goes to the eye doctor. She’ll drop them off
right after my daughter leaves for school.
The call waiting clicks, and I ask my friend to hold.
It’s an acquaintance from my daughter’s school.
“Keri, it’s Annette. I’m here at the PTA nominating
committee meeting, and your name came up,” she begins.
“We were wondering whether you’d consider an executive
position on the board for next year.”
I am a firm believer in parents, especially Christian
parents, being involved in the public schools. My friend
Doris, who goes to my church and is the PTA president,
has been after me to get more involved for two years
now.
How am I to respond to the opportunities that come my
way? Because I believe strongly in being involved in my
children’s education, do I have to serve on the PTA
board? As a Christian, is it my duty? Do I have to do it
this year or can I put it off until next year? If my
friend has watched my kids for me, how often do I have
to watch hers? Every time she asks?
I feel sometimes like I am practicing tennis with the
ball machine, and someone hits a switch so that the
balls are flying faster than I can hit them. I have to
let some go by.
But which ones? Which opportunities do I take advantage
of, which do I simply let fly past? How do I decide
whether to teach a class at church, join a neighborhood
bowling league, write an article? When should I say yes,
and when should I say no?
I want to use my gifts, to pay attention to God’s
calling and respond to it. I also know that a big part
of my calling is my family: caring for my kids and my
husband.
A wise friend of mine puts it this way:
“I picture myself juggling a lot of balls. Sometimes, I
drop a ball. In most cases, that’s not too big of a
deal. But a few of the balls, like my husband and my
kids, are glass balls. So I make sure I do whatever it
takes not to shatter those balls.”
Some of the balls are rubber, and will bounce if we just
give them a little push now and then. Some are lead and
just weigh us down and we shouldn’t be trying to juggle
them in the first place.
Sometimes we have to say “no” to opportunities, to
requests that other people make. The discipline of
saying no, and wisdom to know when to say it, is a great
challenge.
Sometimes, I need a little help saying no. My friend
offered me some insight on how she paces her life in a
way that keeps it from getting too hectic: green X days.
Green X days are days on her calendar with a big green X
through them. No appointments, no activities, just a day
that is unhurried. While her boys are at school, she’ll
sometimes use the green X days to go spend a few hours
in solitude. It’s not drudgery, it’s not something done
out of obligation. It’s a gift to herself, a way of
protecting and nurturing her soul.
I pondered this. What would my life look like with a big
X through a whole day once a week? A day, or even a few
hours, protected from the demands of others?
Recently, this friend presented me with a set of
markers, encouraging me to use them on my calendar.
So the markers are sitting on my desk, waiting to be
used on my daytimer. I keep staring at them, thinking:
all I have to do is to take one of those markers, and
draw two short lines: an X. Take that marker, and I can
seize a day … or at least part of one, time for myself
and for God. But I’m a little scared. And I’m not sure
why.
Because my son is still in preschool, I only have part
of a day with no kids. About eight hours a week, in two
or three hour increments, time that has typically been
used for my writing. It’s a little hard to think about
giving that up.
But I realized that today, I spent part of my “no kids”
time having lunch with my husband and then the rest of
it by myself, walking in the woods. In retrospect, I had
drawn a thin green X through a few of this afternoon’s
hours.
I considered the rest of the week. I then bravely placed
a green X though two hours of Wednesday afternoon. This,
I realize, is a glass ball I cannot afford to drop.
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