I turned down two sewing gigs. This is unusual for me, due to an over developed tendency to comply. One was for a high school girl who wanted a neckline altered on her dress for the dance this weekend. Not only is that too rapid a turn around time,  the neck is where all eyes go as compared to raising the hem to prevent tripping. The second person was inquiring about a prototype for a support garment that only exists on paper. 
 

Not my jam. 

 

It feels liberating to have a clear grasp of what I can and cannot do. Double Wedding Rings, yup. Pineapples, sure. Little girl's frocks, yes please. Costumes for sea gulls, I am your girl. But altering the cleavage on a pricey formal gown, or bringing to fruition a lingerie item I have never heard of... no thanks.  

 

The other day I was in the waiting room of a dentist. It was not my own teeth that were in need of attention, but rather a woman who needed a ride. As it happened the receptionist was out of the office, and the doctor and hygienist were too occupied to field questions from walk ins. Then the phone rang. I have a knee jerk impulse to answer ringing objects, and could have reached over the partition to do so. But what would I say? I know nothing about scheduling, nor insurance. There were only two inquiries I can think of that I could be helpful about. 

 

"Is the dentist in today?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Can you give me an appointment?"

 

"No."

 

I felt calm about staying put. It was not my responsibility to jump in. I would in all likelihood muddle things up. 

 

As I slow down the pace of mothering nine children, I appreciate the chance to let go. Getting comfortable with my limitations makes room for God to lean in.