Deadheading [chrysanthemums and schedules]

Yesterday I noticed that most of my chrysanthemums seemed droopy. Dull. On their way out, in fact. I panicked. Were my flowers really dying? They had been so beautiful, so colorful, shortly before. Wherefore this withering?

Then I looked a bit closer, and the problem became clear. The plants themselves were thriving, but a horde of shriveled old flowers both masked the new blooms and dragged down the stems.

Aha.

I went inside and soon returned armed with shears. I proceeded to give the mums a haircut, and when I had finished, the results amazed me. Deadheading my flowers restored them: I could now see healthy flowers and foliage, without being distracted by dried junk around it.

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It strikes me that my schedule often resembles an overgrown, ratty old chrysanthemum. I slowly let unnecessary cares and frivolous pursuits take over, until it gets to a crisis point and I panic. What am I going to do? Too much on my plate! Can't finish my list!

Then when I examine at my schedule, I discover that I am either overloaded with ridiculous expectations and comparing myself to people who accomplish sooo much more than I do, or spending my time foolishly and failing to make a plan at the beginning of the day. (I've discovered that I am both an overachiever and a lazy bum, a fabulous combination that produces loads of guilty frustration when not properly addressed. Praise God for His patient, sanctifying grace.)

All I have to do is get out my metaphorical shears and snip.

I don't need to make a detour to the library today. It is okay to renew the books until I am actually going that way. I don't need to make rolls for dinner when there is perfectly good rice left over from last night. I don't need to check twenty-five blogs daily. Some days I don't open my computer at all, and lo, the world goes on.

"To one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability" (Matthew 25). The trouble comes when I start grabbing for ten talents, and the Lord has only given me three. The extra seven wither. Why can't I let go of those useless preoccupations and be content with what He has provided?

"And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work. " (2 Corinthians 9)

Snip snip. Oh look, I have time after all.