I promised my husband that I'd strip my schedule down to almost nothing in order to attempt to get us through this last hairy semester - and I've done it. The days are mine, but my hope is that weeding out the unneccessaries in my schedule will at least lower my stress level ... in hopes to better balance out his. (?)
(Of course, this said after a full week of sick, whiny child - stressful to say the least ... but I digress.)
But I hate saying no. I'm a helper and a doer and, dang it, I like saying yes!
When I say no, I feel all sorts of silly things like guilty and "what are they thinking of me?" and "wouldn't I want them to help me?"
Why does such a small word - one so easily blurted a million times out of a toddler's mouth - become so hard for some of us to say? Even for our own good and for the health of our family?
Granted, I think it has to do often with personality. My husband has no problem saying no to things and he doesn't care one whit what someone else thinks. This has helped me fight my natural inclination to 1) say yes and 2) feel bad for saying no.
But honestly? It's just not possible for me to live my life simply unless I say no. Over-commitment, busy schedules, running here and there and there and here ... it's just really common for Americans. I suppose it makes us feel worthy and successful and like we're not just sitting on our hands waiting for something to come to us. Carpe diem, right?
Lately, the busyness of some lives has blown me away and I. don't. want. it.
But this requires saying no.
To good things.
But you know what I've seen in just the last month of practicing this? I've been able to say yes more during my day and it has been freeing. See a friend, cuddle a newborn, make cookies and lick beaters with my little.
(Just like decluttering my home gives space for things that I really love.)
Open schedules = lives open to opportunity. Opportunity unseen without space in my life. May God allow me to see beyond myself (and what I want to fill my freer days with!) and fill it with His abundance.