Some days don't go how you expect.
Despite actually planning out every meal this week on Sunday night, and despite grocery shopping for all the food for said meals, and despite mapping out the goings-on of the past two days in my head, I still found myself scrambling at the dinner hour, both yesterday and today.
This is nearly unheard of for me, this planning and mapping, and yet I still managed to scramble at dinnertime, just like I do every night.
This week my theme has been inadequacy. I've been chock full, bursting at the seams, with self-deprecating thoughts and feelings. In fact, sometimes my seams did burst. Into tears. Big ones. Dripping-off-your-chin kind of tears. It hasn't been pretty.
I felt those ugly, dark feelings churning as I considered the scramble, despite my planning. I recognized the descent I would shortly make into self-pity and disgust.
And then, magically, I stopped. The black cloud dissipated with a thought. There was something magical in today and that was using some of my gifts to help someone I love. I was simply a listening ear and a few words of advice, but it felt appreciated. And in serving, I felt fulfilled.
Plans were never my strong point anyway.