The phrase faux apathy is new to me. Wanting to appear as if you don't care how something is done, but really you are trigger ready to rearrange it.

A few years ago I told John it was fine if he went to his barbershop event and fine if he didn't. But when he picked the wrong one I found out it wasn't. Maybe I fooled myself into believing he had a choice, but he was not duped. 

There are varmints that are digging a hole under the fence in one of my coops. Today I set a Have a Heart trap with a few delectables to lure the culprit into the metal box. I am pretending to be generous, offering an appetizer before he slithers in for the main course, but in reality I have the keys ready to drive the intruder five miles away from my chickens.

As I sail into my sixtieth year on this planet, there are issues that no longer trap me. The bait of trying to make my family do what I in my great wisdom believe they should is less alluring. Each time I sever a cable lashing me to a destination, I become more responsive to the changing trade winds. And sometimes the only way I can be moved by God is through the Spirit.