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Winter Storm Warning


I am in the middle of a winter sign-up storm, and I'm afraid I might not make it out safely.

Sign-up Genius is a huge blessing of convenience for event planners.  I have used it myself when in charge of gathering volunteers to help with activities.  It's a great way to let people know how they can help--even better, they can look through an organized list of items to give or times to serve and choose an option that works for them. How great is that?

Here's the problem, though--this time of year everybody needs help with everything.  The month of December is packed with parties, school and church events, service activities, winter sports, and more.  The accumulation of small sign-ups here and there has grown into a full-blown storm and I am overwhelmed.

I should have heeded the storm warnings broadcast in school newsletters, social media, and church announcements. The holiday season is upon us! Are you ready for Christmas? How will you share your gifts this year?

At the first warnings, I should have followed proper storm preparation procedure--mapping out my resources, planning shopping time, prioritizing my schedule, and anticipating challenges before they arrived.  But I didn't.  Not because I couldn't.  I just didn't.  I let myself be too busy with the daily routines of keeping my family fed, clean, dressed, educated, and loved.

The first few sign-ups were gentle and unassuming, and I let them fall into my schedule like the first gentle snowflakes after a calm, uneventful fall:

Help at the school Holiday Shop? Sure.

The school nurse needs bottled water?  No problem.

A dozen cookies? Easy. You got it.

Click. Click. Click. Add this to my shopping list. Add that to my calendar. Done.

Some requests did not come in the form of sign-ups at all--just appeals from family and friends.  And they were ways I could show my love through service and consideration, noticing needs and taking action before being asked:

Why don't you let your older kids play at my house after school so you can get some work done?  I know it's hard to have a sick baby.

You need Chapstick, Ricky? Well, I'm not home right now, but I can pick some at the store and bring some to you at school on my way home. I know your lips hurt real bad. (Shout out to Napoleon!)

Makayla, I'll make that turkey sandwich you like so much. I know you went to work without breakfast and have only a short time between jobs.

These were small sacrifices to lift and help others and I was happy to serve. These inspired kind acts  were the right way to spend my time, but they also blinded me to the storm heading my way.

And then the wind picked up, the temperature dropped, and I was blown away.

Requests piled in.  Help with career day, clean the temple, work in the concessions stand at the basketball game, contribute food to sell at concessions, help with the class party, or this class party, or this school event, bring a salad to the ward Christmas dinner, contribute to your preschool teachers' gift, bake cookies for a service project, contribute items for blessing bags for the homeless, fill a backpack with food for needy children, help with school staff appreciation, contribute to staff holiday party, buy new books for the school library, donate to the shelter.

I was pelted with request after request for my time. On one day, I received five separate Sign-up Genius links. It was too much.

So, here I am, writing about the sign-ups instead of helping with them. I've shut down.  I have closed the hatches, shuttered the windows, and wrapped myself in the cozy comfort of my ignorance.

The accumulation of sign-ups outside my weather-proof door makes me feel incredibly guilty until I remind myself that sometimes storms cause damage and I need to protect myself and my family from a frazzled, migraine-ridden mom who went beyond healthy capacities.

I hope that as the storm slows down, I will be able to open the doors (and maybe a few sign-up emails) and see the beauty of the many opportunities for service, generosity, and personal sacrifice.  I'll probably take part in them little by little, but for now, I hear Gavin's advice to Andrew at dinner last night, "Pray, you filthy animal."




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