Paper Jam

     I shelled out my five dollars for Sarah Mae's e-book, 31 Days to Clean.  I'm not Miss Messy, but I'm not that neat either and figure I can always use some encouragement.  We can all use some encouragement, can't we?  To further spur myself on, I decided to join the Homemaker's Challenge and commit myself to this in May.
     Today is Day 2, "Created to Give Life."  I spent my morning hurriedly cleaning house before my Dad arrives for a week long visit.  The whole enterprise is full of irony.  He doesn't do much cleaning before our visits, but I clean even the corners of my bedroom before he comes and I doubt he notices.  I reason the corners need it anyway and press on.  By noon I'm tense and snappy.  By five I'm serving hot dogs for dinner, which just doesn't happen often here.  And at 6:30?  We're late for soccer.
     Today is Day 2 and I hadn't yet printed out the PDF file of the book.  I'm behind and we've only just begun.  I hit print and run to get dinner started.  Well...and I hate to even write this...this is my undoing.  Our printer never likes big print jobs, like me, the printer gets overwhelmed.  The printer likes baby steps, five pages at a time.  Not seventy-three.  The paper jams, the printer's beeping, dinner's getting late (and it's hot dogs), then I'm angry with Ally, an innocent by-stander.  I suppose I hoped the poor girl could make everything better, though I'd already enlisted her help in putting sheets on beds and making Mother's Day cards (for my own mother!).  I'm flustered and angry and praying a rather ungodly prayer that went like this, "God I cannot glorify you in this."
     Bryan came home at eight o'clock and asked about my day.  "There's a paper jam in the printer," I whine.  He gets up, to work just a little bit more, and reminds me that if a paper jam is my only problem, life is good.  Kara and Arden certainly thought life was good when two pieces of paper came out of the printer pre-folded in fan folds.  And so at 8:30 on Day 2, I am hurriedly cleaning out part of my fridge, promising myself I'll read the chapter later, but determined to meet at least part of the challenge.
     As Day 2 closes I am neither Mary nor Martha.  I'm not Martha because the work isn't done.  And I'm certainly no Mary.  I meet small obstacles and have a tongue that speaks death instead of life.  My heart is not still and quiet at the Savior's feet to listen to Him either in His word or in my circumstances.  I am anxious and worried about many things.  Tonight I give thanks for grace and after today I need it.