i dropped all my plates yesterday. i was left standing in the middle of the room surrounded by circles of white ceramic glass.
in the following moments of realization, i didn’t know whether to reach for frustration’s hand or disappointment’s. the burn of tears started to fill my eyes and my chin dimpled up like a three year old’s.
i looked around not knowing where to begin the clean up….not even sure i wanted to pick them up.
a small part of me wanted to walk away and see how long i could pretend it hadn’t happened. but when i peeked around the sliding door between the dining room and kitchen, the white discs were not only still there but piled high with a full serving of self-condemnation as well.
i’ve been standing in the middle of it all since yesterday. wondering how i lost hold of them. i am always quick to
gently shriek a reminder to my children not to hold more than two or three at a time. i am teaching them to know better.
i on the other hand, not always confident of which to leave behind, carry them all once.
when the stack starts to wobble..
- sometimes i back against a wall and freeze for a while until i feel more steady.
- sometimes, those closest see my risky determination and gently take one or two off my hands, walking with me as they can.
- sometimes i even stash a few out of sight, hoping no one counts—sees i haven’t got the whole set in motion.
but this week, none of my quick fixes saved me as i wrapped my arms around every plate i have…only to drop them all. and i stood there, feeling as to pieces as they looked…
paralyzed by the mess i had made of all that has been placed in my life.
and then i noticed the numbers.
someone lovingly, with one of the few permanent things in this world, a sharpie pen, had written a simple one, two, or three, etc. on the back of each plate in my life.
many plans are in a man’s heart,
but the counsel of the lord will stand.
(proverbs 19:21, NASB)
knowing i would want to do it all,
knowing i would be overwhelmed,
knowing i would freeze when it all ended up in a heap on the floor some days,
knowing i would forget,
he took out his sharpie…and wrote directions for me. his directions.