Ironing is not my forte. It’s not even something I really enjoy, and so I often leave it to those who do enjoy it (my mother-in-law, for instance). But late last night, before the Bedtime Battle (which was to last ALL NIGHT) began, dear Hubby set up the ironing board and got the iron. He was going to iron himself, bless him. I intervened, much the way he would intervene if he saw me trying to make my own kindling from the wood stacked on the porch. Someone’s only going to get hurt (actually, he has a better chance with ironing than I do with sharp objects).

This morning, as I was ironing and nursing my first of many cups of coffee, trying to concentrate on the first decade of the rosary, one Hail Mary at a time (and failing, failing, failing), I kept getting distracted by this thought, “Ironing is not my forte.” The shirt and pants don’t look much different than they did when I started, and it has nothing to do with a sleepless night. It’s not because I don’t care, or that I don’t take pride in my work. It’s just not my talent. (Which is no excuse for a wrinkled husband in an important meeting – at least there are LESS wrinkles!)

Then I got to thinking about the other things I’m not very good at, but which I find myself doing anyway. Cooking is one. (But thanks to Rachael Ray and my friend AW, I might have a fighting chance!) Domestic duties get lumped into another (especially cleaning, ESPECIALLY cleaning!). Procrastination in general – big weakness.

It’s easy to stop there. But since I was trying to muddle my way through a rosary, I couldn’t help but think about my spiritual life too. Wow. I could use some work! It’s so easy to just avoid the things I’m not naturally inclined toward, those devotions or practices that I’m “no good” at (because, yes, you CAN be good at confession – I know someone who is!). Sometimes, instead of trying anyway, I just leave it to those who are good at it, without considering how I might benefit myself or others with my simple efforts.

Maybe my ironing this morning was an alert. I don’t have to be GREAT at everything I do; I don’t have to be the star student in every endeavor. I can try a new devotion, put an old (failed) practice into place again, forge ahead with some far-fetched attempt toward heaven. Every little bit helps.