Key Limes and Found Time
Green. Small. Time-consuming.
That pretty much describes my relationship with the case of limes in the far corner in my kitchen, tucked away where I don't have to look at them and hear them whisper, "Take care of me. Take care of me."
The limes are setting off my guilt-o-meter, that invisible device I wear under my t-shirt and beneath my skin that informs me when I am not doing or being enough. Not enough. Period.
When I got the limes, I thought "no problem", I will whip through them using my electric juicer. I didn't realize the cut limes were too small and my juicer too large. Getting less than a tablespoon of juice per lime is slow and monotonous work.
I would be tempted to throw out the entire lot, but the iced pitcher of lime-ade in my fridge is the nectar of the gods. I am not joking. Best. Juice. Ever.
So bit by bit, fruit by fruit, I am juicing the limes. What was intended to be a small project has turned into something I really don't want to commit to.
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But isn't that the way it is?
We say "yes" to something and it grows into something else that wants to consume our calendar. It is easy to resent the smallness.
College began last week for my two younger kids, setting off the yearly event of back-to-school. This annual rhythm has always been a part of my life since my parents were both teachers and later when we raised our own family. August/September, more than January, is the time I make decisions about time commitments.
Yesterday I was talking with a college student about the upcoming school year.
"What does your fall look like?" I asked.
He paused. Thought a moment. "My fall is not shaping up like I thought it would."
"What do you mean?"
He frowned.
"Things aren't coming together. I'm not going to be as busy as I thought I would be."
He spoke like this was a bad thing, but I knew from having college kids of my own that sometimes classes aren't available when you need them or there are last minute changes in schedules. It can be frustrating
."So you found time," I said.
"What?"
"Most people fill up all their time and don't have time to give. You have unexpected found time."
"I hadn't thought of it that way."
"The trick will not be losing the time you have found. What do you think God wants you to do with your found time?"
He had no answers to my question. I left him, lost in thought.
It is a question I can ask myself. What will I do with found time? I have another school year before me, full of possibilities.
I'd like to fill my days with important conversations and writing a book and making meaningful choices that matter for eternity, but sometimes my days are filled with limes and smallness and the piles of dog hair that swirl under the air-conditioning vents no matter how many times I sweep the floor.
In the past this would have driven me crazy as I wanted to move onto MORE IMPORTANT THINGS, but in this new rhythm of my life, this post-cancer, post-caretaker season, I realize that sometimes the effort needed in making an excellent pitcher of lime-ade is worth the time.
The found time.
Stuff: Currently focusing on two priorities: writing a book proposal and overhauling the blog. I am working with a web designer for a more professional look on a self-hosting site which will hopefully include some free stuff and links to my other social media accounts. Be prepared for awesomeness.