There is in me that person who wakes up wanting to do what’s true and right. 
Then as the day progresses and thoughts of evening come, there creeps up this happy imp with thoughts only of light-heartedness, leisure, and comfortableness. Relief from thinking, always so much thinking, and respite from feeling, always so very much feeling. It seems harmless enough, helpful enough, usually enough…
But it is a thief. It steals the magic of the ordinary moment, deprives the opportunity to call on the life of the indwelling Holy Spirit to show up in power and real love, reduces memory to wisps, vague recollections, and sometimes even wipeouts. It is not a noble friend, but instead a stealthy drug dealer who cares nothing for the wretched ones who do anything for another evening of light-heartedness and forgetfulness. Ease the burden. Make life more fun. These are the mottos of the addicted. These are the trappings of the enslaved, the blind in desperate need of deliverance.
