Of lists and lyrics

Before bed, I scrawl a list full of the criticals, of all the things required to accomplish the next day.  I erase the things that I wish I would get to but that don't carry an urgent due date, because at least I'm learning to be realistic.  I wake up already behind, hyper-vigilant for any free moment to turn my attention to the tasks, measuring my day by what gets crossed off.  I go to bed feeling empty, feeling like I am still chasing some secret.  Life is a never-ending list.

And then I hear an interview with author Emily Freeman, who speaks about what it might mean to live life like a poem instead of a program, a lyric rather than a list.  A few days later, I wake up and read the day's passage, that the Kingdom of God does not come with my careful observation ... but because the kingdom of God is within me (paraphrasing Luke 17: 20-21).  And the secret feels within my grasp.

Life as a list and life as a lyric might have the same exact things accomplished in a day, but the difference is what my heart chooses - check-marks or melodies.  I so want to be a melody, to do all-the-things as the outflow of a passionate heart song.  To hunt not for the free moments to get something done but for the sweet notes coming out of the most menial of tasks.  To do only the things desired by the One who delights in my heart song, who put his Kingdom music within me.  

Writing a blog post wasn't even on today's list.  In fact, who knows what won't get done because of these 15 minutes.  But my heart is taking in the hopeful melody.

(Reading that I will be coming back to often: Emily Freeman, One word that is sabotaging the art you live.)