Idle Minds, Crooked Paths

 

Idle Minds, Crooked Paths

I’ve been wrestling with Cain and Abel lately, asking myself: Am I more like Cain or Abel? Not that I’m plotting a murder, but are my daily sacrifices—time, energy, heart—proper, aimed at the highest good I can muster, or are they self-serving? I suspect Cain’s off-putting sacrifice in Genesis 3 RE wasn’t his first swing at it. He’d been building a pattern—either giving his best all along or coasting—until God called him out. When that happened, he didn’t repent or adjust; he got mad, blamed God, and let resentment fester into murder.

 

The text is sparse on Cain’s inner world before that moment, but I’d bet it wasn’t a one-off. Character builds over time. Abel brought “firstlings of his flock and their fat portions” (Genesis 3:7 RE)—prime, generous, heartfelt. Cain? Just “fruit of the ground” (Genesis 3:7 RE)—no hint it was his best. Why did God reject it? Quality? Attitude? Maybe it lacked blood? I think Cain had been skating by, offering just enough, and this time God didn’t let it slide.

 

So I look at my own sacrifices. Am I giving my “firstlings,” or holding back what’s convenient? It’s not just the act—it’s the heart. Abel’s gift feels like trust and gratitude; Cain’s, maybe obligation or show. When God doesn’t buy it, Cain lashes out instead of looking inward. Sounds familiar—our world’s full of that vibe, no? God even warned him: “If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door” (Genesis 3:8 RE). Cain had a shot to pivot. He doubled down on bitter instead.

 

That’s got me testing myself: where’s my mind go when it idles? Psychology calls it the “default mode network”—what hums when you’re not focused. If my thoughts climb toward something high and spiritual, I’m in Abel’s lane. If they slump into the coarse and banal, it’s Cain’s drift. His anger probably brewed in those unchecked moments—he ignored the warning about sin at the door. Catching myself mid-drift and nudging upward? That’s direction over perfection.

Here’s the hinge: the tug between the “natural man” and the “spiritual man.” The natural pulls down—easy, indulgent, loud. The spiritual calls up—discipline, intent, a cry to God. Cain coasted, then crashed. Abel wrestled upward, giving his best. My idle-mode test snapshots that fight: where’s my momentum taking me when I’m not actively steering?

 

Redirecting is brutal. Drift feels good—why fight it? Paul nailed it in Romans 7:19 LE: “I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing.” That’s everyone’s war. The pivot’s less about grit and more about leaning away from gravity when I catch myself slipping.

 

Cain and Abel boil down to sacrifice—the why and the how. Abel’s pleased God because it was his best, aimed high. Cain’s fell short in spirit, not just stuff, and sent him spiraling. The “highest good” isn’t a landing spot—it’s a horizon, always stretching. Chasing it takes relentless focus, not coasting. It’s not about being Abel every day; it’s about aiming, recalibrating, offering what’s real.

 

So I stare into this mirror: Are my sacrifices firstlings, tuned to gratitude, or leftovers, simmering with “what’s the use”? My idle thoughts show the soil—purpose or drift. The climb’s gritty, but that’s the deal: catch myself, pivot, aim higher, again and again.

BTW - Here's a Joke for you :)

Q - How long did Cain hate his brother?

A - As long as he was Abel 

Signed

John The-Not-So-Beloved