I don’t bake cookies. When people ask me how I have time to write blogs, newspaper columns, articles, and books while also holding together a day job, that is my answer. “I don’t bake cookies.” In fact, I sometimes don’t even cook supper, and my amazing, supportive husband gladly eats something cold from a can. (Someone may be driving to our house at this moment to revoke my Betty Crocker Homemaker of the Year award from 1974.)

I don’t knit. Or crochet. Or do any of the fancy stitch work my grandmothers did so beautifully. I treasure the pillowcases, afghans, and quilts they left me. But, I pray our grandchildren will be satisfied with books as a legacy. Because while other grandmothers are knitting, I’m attempting to write by whatever light is left at the end of my day.

I don’t go to baby showers. Unless the baby is directly related to me, of course. I also skip bridal showers, jewelry parties, and a wide array of social gatherings. (I’m happy to support the endeavors of my friends, and I often make a donation or send a gift. But, sometimes I have to miss stuff.)

The point of this list is simple. We cannot do all the things. Nor, should we try. You may not be writing books in the margins around your day, but I suspect you are doing something important. (Rearing small children, perhaps?) And, we will become stronger, healthier, and much happier once we stop trying to do all the other things besides the ones to which we have been assigned for this season.

Catch that? It is a season. Today, I don’t bake cookies. Someday, I might spend fewer hours at my day job. When that happens, I might actually learn to cook. (Nah. I’d probably learn to knit first. Or maybe take up the piano.)

One of the Biblical writers says we are “created for good works which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.” I try to remember that each day and simply ask, “Which good work is mine today, Lord?”

And, that’s enough.