I read what you wrote.

So many things are easier left undone.

If you could only see my kitchen sink right now and the mountain of dirty dishes piled high in it, you would know that I know what you mean.

Undone, unsaid, unchanged.

We like to be comfortable.

We like a bag full of potato chips close at hand, our jeans still the smallest decent size possible, and the annoyance of baggage (ours or someone else’s) stuffed into the old suitcase in the hall closet.

We like “gentle Jesus meek and mild” and would prefer if he didn’t clamber off the pages of our kids’ story books and into our real lives. I mean, that’d just be so awkward and scary and flat-out weird.

But then something awkward or scary or flat-out weird happens.

Your kid tells you something about the babysitter you would rather not have heard. Your husband goes on the road for weeks at a time. Your friends have an entire alternate universe of plans going on that don’t include you. Your doctor has bad news. Pick your ending – there’s an entire library to choose from.

And suddenly there is no “easier” any more.

The only option left is the hard one.

Easier now lies on the other side of an epic battle with yourself, your fears, your doubts or your relationships.

These are the moments that convince me God is not particularly interested in our happiness. It is our holiness that’s at stake.

Make every effort to live in peace with all men and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. Hebrews 12:14 (NIV).

Holiness – to be set apart, to be like God, or – as loosely translated by me –

to get off the couch, roll up our sleeves, stand in the door frames of our houses and yell at the darkness, “You will not get me or my kids because I am going to open every uncomfortable nook and cranny of my soul to the One who made me so that he can flood me with his power and peace and perseverance so that I can step right over the easy choices and tackle the hard ones on such a regular basis that I bulk up like Xena Warrior Princess and get in the habit of beheading my lazy inclinations every day before dinner.”

Or something along those lines.

Because easier is ultimately “more difficult” in disguise.

Just ask the woman who has to go and scrape all that dried crud off her leftover dirty dishes!