Whack-a-Mole

I don't really know if the saints in heaven can see us or not, but I am sure that they intercede for us when they do become aware of what's going on down here. I often ask my grandmother to remember me to Jesus and I think she does. I need her intercession this morning and I also ask St. Anne to remember me as I become aware of how distracted and diffused I have become. It is so easy to listen to all of the voices that speak into the wind. They want to be engaged and entertained, but deep down I know that to engage them is to depart from what I should be doing. (This isn't coming out right at all.) Suffice it to say, I confess. I confess to being too susceptible to the influences of the voices I should ignore and too deaf to the voices I should heed. This Lent season, I pray that Christ will allow me to be offensive when it serves his purpose and quiet when it serves his purpose. And I pray that he will grant me the wisdom to know where to speak and how. I am a finite person with a small capability, but what I have, I rest on him. All other ground really is sinking sand.