My 6-yr-old son loves building creatures, houses, and entire little cities out of nothing but paper, tape, and scissors. He creates everything in 3D, and honestly, some of his creations are incredibly detailed. He’ll spend hours working on them. I love that it keeps him busy, uses his imagination, and keeps him away from screens. This morning, he came running to me, so excited to show me his newest project. It was the beginning of the living room floor of a mansion he was building. I smiled… until I asked him, “Indy… what’s that on the floor of your room?” “Oh,” he said casually, “that’s carpet.” “Carpet from… what?” I asked, suddenly afraid of the answer. He paused. “…From your cow rug.” My heart sank. He had cut pieces out of my very expensive cowhide rug - the one I had gotten for my birthday. I got very quiet. It had already been a long day, and I was trying not to cry. He immediately knew he’d done something wrong. He started apologizing over and over, explaining exactly how much he’d cut off and telling me how sorry he was. Years ago, I probably would have lost my temper. But instead, I found myself thinking about something much bigger. A lesson I myself have learned in the past as an adult. How many times have we, as God’s children, sincerely believed we were doing something good? Something we thought would make Him happy. Something we convinced ourselves was the right thing to do. But we never stopped to ask Him first. Our intentions can be genuine and still be misguided. Sometimes we become so excited about our own plans that we forget to seek God’s direction. We assume that because something seems good to us, it must also be good in His eyes. Yet Scripture reminds us that “there is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to d*ath” (Proverbs 14 12). Indy wasn’t trying to destroy my rug. In his mind, he was building something beautiful. He simply didn’t understand that what he was using didn’t belong to him. How often do we do the same thing with our time, our words, our relationships, or our decisions? We mean well. We have good intentions. But we move ahead without stopping to pray, without asking for wisdom, and without considering whether what we’re doing is truly God’s will. Good intentions are important. But obedience is even more important. Sometimes the most spiritual thing we can do isn’t to act. It’s to pause… pray… and ask our Father first. I forgave him. He already felt horrible enough once he realized what he did.