Sometimes I like to think I’m a pretty good person. That I’m aging gracefully, not grumpily. That I do a little better than average. That I give a little more come the end of each year. That I make fewer mistakes than the guys who sit next to me.
And about that last one, well, it sorta has to be true since I edit their articles all day. Right?
No. It’s not right. And it’s not true. And this past weekend proved it once and for all. I was helping my beautiful bride with a pretty important task she had for her home-based business (she’s a seamstress), and I bungled it badly. Not in a Bill-Cosby-mess-things-up-so-she-never-asks-you-to-do-it-again sort of way either. It was a big deal, and I was trying to learn how to help, but just about everything that could go wrong did go wrong.
I was not nearly as good at this as I thought I was.
She was exceedingly gracious and kindhearted about the whole mess, immediately applying her considerable skill to the subject and rectifying the whole thing. The project turned out great, but not exactly thanks to me. I have a bit more learning to do before those kinds of kudos are in order.
So it got me to thinking about my place in the world. And after a few minutes of productive navel gazing, about the condition of my heart. The verdict? Black. Black as night with no hope of internal navigation without Jesus being so ready and willing to shine a little light in there.
Christian youth culture expert Walt Mueller (founder and president of the Center for Parent/Youth Understanding) must have had a few weekends like mine, because he’s quite eloquent on this subject in his learning my lines blog:
The other day I saw a Facebook post that told me I need to "be true to yourself." To be honest, that scares me to death. I'm stumped by our culture's bent on believing that people are, at the core, inherently good. I'm not sure I'm even tempted to go down that slippery slope much anymore as all I need to do to be convinced otherwise is to look within and without. To be honest, the look within offers plenty of evidence of depravity. And just when I might be convinced that I've got it beat, I realize that the well of my own depravity is deep, full, and strong in flow. If I were to be true to myself … well … I shudder to think.
So you’ll forgive me for getting a little annoyed while recently watching an advance video copy of Brave. (It’s in stores today.) Was it the naked backsides that got to me? Was it the incessant chase sequences? The Druid-esque magic? The “wise” old witch? Not as much as it was that tried-and-false, decades-old Disney mantra: Look within yourself for the direction your life should take. In the words of Merida, Brave’s redheaded fireball, “There are those who say fate is something beyond our command. That destiny is not our own. But I know better. Our fate lives within us. You only have to be brave enough to see it.”
Or in other words, Follow your dreams. Your heart will be your guide.
I’m with Mueller on this one, not Pixar: When I look within, I’m more lost than I was when I wasn’t looking anywhere at all.
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