Choose wisely.

God gives us the freedom to choose between good and evil. He does not however give us the right to define them.

With so many issues, debates, and discussions swirling around and an important election around the corner, this idea about the freedom to choose but not define is marinating in my mind.

How often do we want what we want and after prayer and discernment we decide God wants us to be happy even though are choice is outlined in Scripture, in teaching and Tradition as a sin, or evil?

Okay, evil? Evil is a strong word, right? When I think evil I think of some cat eating serial killer.

But herein lies the rub. The idea that there are shades of gray, is man-made. God wants all of us. All of our heart, all of our soul, all of our lives. He wants us to turn away more everyday away from the things of this world and earthly desires and toward Him. He calls us to be Holy. Holy.

Not be a good person. Not do more right than wrong. Not live avoiding the big sins, but to give Him everything. No other god before - not any other desire (god) before Him. Not a sexual desire, not a personal desire, not a need, a weakness, a failure, a shortcoming, nothing, before Him.

Taken in that context, the road to Heaven appears to be much less traveled.

When we say yes to our desires, desires that contrast with His Word, His commandments, His Church, we are choosing between good and evil. Good is with God, evil is without Him. We can think we are finding some loophole, and it might help us sleep at night, for awhile. But we can only choose whether or not we choose God. We cannot define what pleases Him.

Choose wisely.

Housewifery is a lot like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.

Housewifery is a lot like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic (which is a terrible movie).

Any one task is the ship. It doesn't matter how many times you do it, it's going down. The kitchen doesn't stay clean, laundry doesn't stay clean, carpets get icky and hairy all over again, especially if you have an 80 lb. lab-chow-possum mix dog in your house.

I got up this morning thankful for the mercies that greet me each day and the grace to take up my work. I said my prayers, had breakfast with my dh, made his lunch, sipped some yummy coffee, fixed my hair (elaborately in a ponytail holder) and got running shoes on. Oh, I don't run per se but they are a staple in my everyday life and the says to put 'em on so I do.

As I sat down to prepare some lesson plans I got this sinking feeling, that, "what is the point again, Lord?" feeling. All this will pass away. All of it. So why bother with all these details? Why strive for goodness, greatest, or dare I say it... perfection?


Oh, I don't know I was hoping you would know. It's honest question.


So neither of us know? great news.

As I typed this a giant, roaring crack of thunder cut loose! ohhhkaaayyy.

Let me think. Christ didn't have to come down here to save our sinking butts, but He did. I just want to give Him thanks and praise and glory.

If my kids don't care for their toys, clothes, car, etc - I feel unappreciated, and I know they do not truly grasp the sacrifices that were made to provide those items. So how much more does God need me to care for and tend my blessings, that He might know how much I love and appreciate His great sacrifice?

I end that with a question mark because I'm really thinking this out loud this morning. Maybe other days the answer is written on my heart in clear, 20 pt Times New Roman Font, but today I guess it's smudgy.

As I think about it, any day I do this work for me, or for my hubby or the kids, I can feel very drained and hopeless at the end of the day. If all my efforts are for Him? For He who gave me this husband these children, this home, and these blessings... well then! yeah, the earthly ship is still indeed sinking. But if I get out of the sinking ship and keep my eyes focused on Christ, I can walk on water. I don't know what all this means yet exactly but I'm sure another cup of coffee will fully illuminate.

Yeah, now I'm ready to take on this day.

Blessings, Robin