Sickness is sweeping through my family and I’m tired of the noise of television. But why do I turn to reading vs writing?!
Part of me is annoyed with myself. Shouldn’t a chunk of child sleep mean an open slot for writing? Except somehow it just doesn’t!
Part of me feel guilty because I’ve been reading. Here I am, flying through my kindle, with nothing at the end to show for it. Writing offers a goal at the end of it. I’m not sure the way I’ve been reading particularly does.
At least we can still say, sinners though we are, maybe God can use what we read for some good now and some good later. I’m so thankful it isn’t entirely up to me to even determine what’s helpful!
Ok, I’m off to sneeze more. I mean, read more. I mean, do more laundry.
Happy whatevering, today, even if it includes some reading vs writing!