Planning with hope

I've spent the whole week doing planning. Planning on the trainings to come, the groups I will work with, the provinces I will go to, the times I will go, the number of women I will work with per training, the materials I'll need, the subjects I will teach, the this and the that, the here and then that.
Then I started to put these 'planned' activities into a calendar.
What a difference that makes.
The calendar really puts the plans into the scheme of things.
I have too many plans and not enough time.
How do I make the wisest plan? Who can benefit most from the training we do? How do I choose?
It feels like such a hard call. 35 associations in Kabul, 18 in the provinces.
Crossing out groups from my list leaves me feeling guilty. We can never cover all.
Then of those who do get invited, who will be able to come?
Will the women be able to commit a full day to sitting and learning 6 times in the year?
Will my teachings be of any real help?

I went to one of, or the poorest association. They are embroiderers. I sat with them. We had tea. I explained what I do. They listened. Most were too shy to respond.
One of them caught my interest. I didn't get her name. I just go a bit of her story. Mother of 6, 3 are mentally handicapped, all 3 are teenagers or older, she is a widow. She was the most responsive. Seemed to be the leader.
She smiled, it was a genuine smile.
Her misery was nothing to frown about. She makes a living as an artisan, she embroiders her life away.
She lives in a tiny square of a room, there are 6 such squares in the place were were in, so 6 families live there. No green. All dust.
They share a water pump.
She made me wonder. Is anything I know of use to her?
Does my training provide an improvement in her life, now, later or whenever?
How do I enter her life?
She immediately touched mine. How do I reciprocate the big lesson she taught me today?
There must be joy in the struggle. This seems to be a recurring phrase I turn to, believe in, love reminding myself of, but seem to use very little.
Yet there she was, all smiles, eagerness, questions, acceptance of what I come and offer.
Full of joy in her daily struggle.
What can I give?
As my planning continues I can only wait in God's grace to fill my work with wisdom.
I want to leave all my ego, and expectations, and comforts behind, and when I enter their room, and sit with them, I hope I may truly feel like their sister.
I want to be a sister with hope. I want to truthfully hope that my Afghan sisters will be ok. That tomorrow does bring a brighter day. That their daughters will suffer less and less.
I want to plan full of hope.