Why do I always get sick right when I’m about to make life-altering decisions? Then I get the appealing choice of:
A) Making a life altering decision under the influence of Dimetapp; or
B) Making a life altering decision under the influence of 20 lbs. of phlegm lowering the oxygen sat rate of my brain.
Satan, I firmly believe, has full control of all germs and bacteria on planet Earth–and he ain’t above using them as weapons of spiritual warfare. I have been so sapped lately after I get home from work that getting some sort of vaguely nutritious meal prepared for the family is a task of Herculean effort. Which is my elaborate way of excusing myself for not keeping up with my 40 Days of Purpose readings…
Well, not quite excusing. I plan to try to catch up tonight. Argghhh. Consistency is the hardest virtue to master.