I find the lettuce in the cupboard. Shimmied between multi grain crackers and a crumpled bag of Lay's.
It's the pre-washed kind. Lettuce in a bag. Only now it's warm and wilty. It's been there since yesterday.
I'm noticing such things more and more lately. I'm losing things. I'm forgetting things. I think it's the daily rush. There's always a list. There's always a stack. There's always a Top One Hundred Things To Do.
I pull the lettuce from the cupboard and toss it in the trash. Suddenly I'm laughing. I'm remembering last week when my sweet mama came to the boys' soccer game wafting lemons. The furniture polish had been in the bathroom. She styled her hair, reached for hairspray, and misted her head with Pledge.
Not much hope for a gal like me. But I'm smiling just the same.
Maybe it's too much input. Too many things churning in my head. Maybe I'm distracted or my mind is fogging with forty-something age. I'm not sure. But somewhere between the lettuce in the cupboard and the next hundred things I'll do, there's a prayer:
Lord, help me to take my time with the important things. Time in Your Word. Time with my husband. Time with my boys.
Lord, help me put the important things in the right places. My energy. My talents. My service. My hours.
Lord, let me deal with myself with grace when my efforts fall short.
And Lord, keep me smiling, as laughter is a gift.
Just then a bevy of boys bursts around the corner. "Mom, what's for dinner?" echoes through the halls.
I'm not sure. It won't be salad.
The lettuce went warm in the cupboard.
But everything will be just fine.