There are weeks when no one contacts me about sewing gigs. That is fine, since I have my own agendas to busy myself with. Plus, children still like to join me in the room with fabric along two walls. 

This month, though, there is a list. It is substantial enough that I need to articulate it in a note on my phone. This is helpful both to assure myself that nothing is ignored, and also to prove that it is finite. When projects float around in my head they give the illusion of being endless. That overwhelms me. But this compilation is manageable. 

Annabelle's coverlet (I have kept her waiting too long)

Cairnwood curtains (handwork)

Costume repairs for first grade (finish by September)

Window covers (easy)

T shirt quilt for Amy (no hurry)

T shirt quilt for Debbie (no hurry)

Creation quilt (priority)

Doll clothes (easy)

Quilt of Amanda's clothes (precious)

I am, it turns out, a list person. Give me a notebook, or an envelope, and a pen so that I can spell out the task facing me. 

God has a penchant for lists. I put one of them to music, to make it easier to remember. 

"He has shown you, oh man, what is good, and what does the Lord require of you? But to do justice, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?" Micah 6

Forty years after composing it, I smile that it contains two of our children's names. The directive itself only contains three points. Even someone with ADHD can hang on to that many items. 

There are times when I feel flattened by the prospect of becoming a better person. Don't criticize. Be patient. Keep learning. Be humble. Listen well. Exercise. Do dishes. Pray. Do my job. Lower my carbon footprint. Eat well.

No envelope can contain the shoulds that pound us relentlessly. 

But there is another list that is concise enough to fit on a silver bracelet around my wrist. It clinks against the other two that go everywhere with me, which convey their own sweet messages. The Ten Commandments include instructions for a meaningful life, and what is interesting to me is that eight of them articulate what not to do, rather than adding to my schedule. 

The slender band does give the impression of being infinite, because of the subtle twist in the circle. It is not to represent the weariness of never finishing my list, so much as the quiet request to start again each morning.