This house needs to be turned upside down and given a good shake. I was convicted today that several problem spots in my house do not glorify God. Certain closets, certain rooms need to be grasped by the neck and given a mighty shake like a terrier with a rat. Sneaky stuff. Crafty possessions. Why can't our stuff stay where it belongs? It
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Reading _My Life for Yours_ was convicting. Not that I didn't know that my bedroom ought not be the messiest room in the house just because other people don't see it...
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I have made some good progress since I posted that, but, alas, I still haven't tamed our bedroom, which is one of our trouble spots, too.
Btw, do you like P.G. Wodehouse? (I'll finish rereading The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club tonight. And just yesterday I found some Dorothy Sayers at our used bookstore that I had never heard of! They are two books from "The Detection Club," a "private association of writers of detective fiction in Great Britain, existing chiefly for the purpose of eating dinners together at suitable intervals and of talking illimitable shop." That's a quote from Sayers on the back of the book. I haven't read one yet, but it looks like the different club members collaborated on the books by each writing a few chapters.)
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