Leather Leaf List

When untimely rains and winds cause leaves to fall while they’re still green, they descend not yet ripe, crispy or ready. They are the inopportune, early autumn leaves ripening in the warm sun as they become leathery. Sometimes our lives are like these leather leaves. Untimely interruptions, terrifying tragedies, and even just the ordinary events of life throw us off course, bring us to our knees, and find us on the ground too soon. It hurts, it’s painful, and it’s confusing.

When our two-year-old Evan died of leukemia, life was very hard. He was so young and it happened too soon. My husband and four living sons needed me. I had focused my energies for many months in the hospital several miles from our home as I attended to Evan’s needs. After our little boy died, I was mourning, hurting, and felt like a brittle thistle: no strong soul, no sweet sustenance, no full well to draw from to meet my everyday needs. But I could work, I could clean, and I could cook. So I made a list each morning and moved through life until life could move through me again. It was a "Leather Leaf List."

When I feel these leather leaves descending, as soon as I am able to feel the warmth of life again, I make a list to move the troubles of my life away from my head and heart. I list everything: what I need to get done, what is hurting me, what I must attend to, what I need to tell someone, what undone repairs are weighing me down, and what I’ll fix for dinner.

At best, my Leather Leaf List is mixed up, but somehow it helps. I can’t control much of what swirls around me, but I can make a list. It gives me focus and enables me to carry on with the movements of my life, the everyday routines and responsibilities, while I allow the friendship of those around me, the tenderness of children’s smiles, and the patience of passing time to heal the wounds.

It happened again when we moved several years ago and I had a terrible head cold. I was too weak to do much more than sit and watch family members and friends work. I remember getting up a few mornings later and wondering how much I could do, where to start, and what would be the best use of my limited interest. It seemed so perplexing, so confusing. It was just a big mess. Then I made a short list. "Today, if I can, I will…" As my energy came, I would do an item. Then I rested. Then I did the second item. Then I slept. Then I continued on my list. It was wonderful and it worked.

Last year when two of our sons moved across the country, another son returned from his mission, and the fourth son was married, I was overwhelmed with the enormous diversity of our children’s needs. Regular life had to go on, but we had all this additional joy and activity to fit into our lives. So my husband and I listed: a list for the upcoming marriage, a list for one son’s move, a list for another son’s graduation, and a final list of our missionary’s homecoming needs. Our lists made the commotion of a busy year so much easier, so much more possible.

And, yes, I live by the 80/20 rule: I list everything on my mind and plan to only get 80% done. The other 20% will wait, wither, or die from neglect. But the "done" items will have been my effort to muddle through life with the greatest degree of possible success. It will have to be enough.

Also, I have found I must add to my list items which don’t come easy when the hurt is especially deep and raw. I call it "catching the dew." Early mornings are for filling my personal well. Scriptures, prayer, and journaling are the soul-saturating activities that make it possible for my fount to be full for others. They must start my list to help me along my way. Very much like the early dew caught by a spider web, I will seek for the blessings of the Lord to come into my life as I begin my day, then do what I can with my list, and leave the rest in His hands.

Now and then it’s time to stop and make a Leather Leaf List. If you are confused, overwhelmed, or otherwise out of sync, try making up a lengthy written list. Then have a short prayer and begin ticking off some of those "to do" items. Control what you can, go as fast as you are able, and patiently wait for the balm of capacity to return to your heart. "I will not leave you comfortless," He said. "I will come to you." (John 14:18) (Photography by David N. Ricks. Used with permission.)