(Can I just say that I love the fact that it isn't pitch dark outside when Steve goes to work? That gentle bit of blue creeping in makes all the difference in the world.)
Mornings are just better these days. It's easy to forget that just a few weeks ago, I had to eat all night long (that's what it felt like) and was still unable to keep anything down for more than five minutes when I dragged myself out of bed. It's easy to have the memory of excessive fatigue swallowed up in my current morning energy level which declares: Get up! Eat breakfast! Read your Bible! Exercise! Start your happy little day! (Ping, ping, ping!) I'm grateful for how things are right now. I want to manage the morning's time wisely.
What about time management? I was thinking about this a lot lately because I have always been self-righteously wonderful at managing my own time and being a remarkable Holy Spirit for everyone else and their time management. During high school, I would diligently attack my studies, making the most of every moment...and take quite a bit of time informing my siblings that if they didn't get up at 7am and launch right into their Saxon math, they would have a blank future. (These comments and their accompanying glances were not well received.) It was easier in a college environment. I could do my own thing and I didn't have the weight of managing time for everyone else. First of all, I didn't care about them as much as I did my siblings. Second, there were consequences for rushing around to finish a paper (bad grades for them, good grades pour moi). Third, I could go into my own room and surround myself in time management utopia when the socializing got rough. And finally, I was convinced that God would take hold of their hearts sooner or later and show them "the better way."
Then I got married to Steve, also known as Mr. Procrastination. Mr. All-Nighter. Mr. What-is-a-Routine? And it has had its sticky moments. After all, I thrived on routine and knowing that God smiled on me because I would make the most of my day or die trying. At this rate, Steve was bound for some sort of serious consequences. Or not. Somehow, someway, he still manages to get things done responsibly and well without stressing about time management from the moment he wakes up. How can this be?
I may be on the obsessive side in time management, but in talking with friends and relations, I noticed a bit of a similar trend: the girls would get freaked out about time management and getting things done, while the guys just sort of let life happen and just did things. It reminded me of a book I received called Men Are Like Waffles, Women Are Like Spaghetti. Now, I haven't read it through, but the general premise is that guys see life in boxes (waffles) while girls tend to see how different facets of life touch and effect everything else (spaghetti). This may not apply across the board (God didn't make us into guy and girl robots, after all), but I can see how it relates to Steve and me. I wake up with a mental list of things to do and a mental schedule laid out which tells me when I need to do what by what time and what will happen if I don't. Steve gets out of bed, drinks some coffee, wakes up, thinks of things that need to be done in the day and decides that as long as they are done by the end of the day, all is well. Everything touching verses boxes. Hmm.
I can see why, perhaps, God designed us differently. Steve's main job after loving God and loving me is to provide for our family. It's in the box Go To Work. It stays in the Box. My main job after loving God and respecting Steve is to manage the house. And everything relates to everything in managing a house. It's a job that lasts all day long. So we're programmed for our different jobs and we have to manage our time differently. This can result in me being a better mom (I hope) and Steve being a dad who actually (oh my goodness) has time to spend with his kids.
This is pretty rambly, but in getting back to my morning routines, I do want to manage my time wisely. That means doing the dishes and putting clothes away...but not freaking out if it's not done by a certain time. It means seizing the opportunity to exercise while there isn't a husband around to laugh at me. It means not becoming so time management oriented that I don't have time for the things that really matter, like spending time enjoying the Lord and the people that he has put into my life. Maybe it's letting him manage my time.
(It probably means getting off of the computer....)