What did I do today?

So here's a true confession. I know, somewhere inside me, that I am not my accomplishments. When I wake in the morning, I try to remember that place in Matthew 3 where Jesus is baptized. Before he healed the first sick person, before he preached his first sermon -- before he "does" anything at all, really, the voice of his father comes from heaven, "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased."

But my natural tendency is to want to do something, to feel, you know, productive. In other words, besides the part that knows I'm not my accomplishments, there's another part that's not really sure. So I feel restless sometimes.

If I spend a day at the office and can't get anything done, I feel frustrated. If I spend a day at home and nothing I try to do succeeds, then I feel like I want to have success at something, even if it's something mundane like frying some chicken parts (yes I am serious). That might not be so bad, but the problem comes when I'm on vacation, as I am today. The lovely Carol is asleep, and I probably should be, too. But what did I do today?

As some of my colleagues would say, "I'm an idiot." I cared for and enjoyed my family (the part that's here, anyway; the ex-teenager is at Big Event); I sought the Lord (not every moment of the day, but some); I obeyed the traffic laws; I stayed within our budget. I even wrote something sorta spiritual this morning, though it was mostly an extract from Merton. In other words, I did "enough" (what an awful word!) for today.

But there's that silly part of me that longs for "something" accomplished. Bah!

Lord, change my foolish heart. Soften it, as you told Ezekiel (36:26) you would. Turn my heart away from seeking vanity. Create in me a pure heart.

And now it's time to practice the discipline of sleep.