On my way to the kitchen to retrieve my bowl of oatmeal, I realized I was in the grip of an odd sensation. “What is this odd sensation?” I asked(I tend to talk to myself when no one is around to look sideways at me[Yes, I know I shouldn’t care so much about what others think of me, but I do, so shut up!{please}]).

Let’s see, where was I? Oh, yes, “What was that odd sensation?” you’re asking, so I’ll tell you.


What bums me is feeling purposeless. When working at New Life Center I was happy, because despite the minimum wage and the menial nature of the job, I felt I was making a difference. Since leaving there that sense of purpose has been absent, and much of the time I felt depressed.

Until recently, that is, when my friend Tricia sent me her new novel’s manuscript for beta-reading. Well, you know me; being a compulsive editor I couldn’t just read it for content. I had to edit her hard work line-by-line, and though that is heavy mental work I get a kick out of making something worthwhile even better.

Though I’m sure there is a Scriptural application in this, at the moment I have bigger mice to slay. So do me a favor, if you can think of Scripture for this principle, please leave it in the comments. I await your response with ‘bated breath.

And I thank you.


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