Delusions of Grandeur10:56 AM
NOTE: Once you've properly recovered, please do read on.
"Why?" you might press. "You seem to be on it every three hours. You sprinkle all these smileys everywhere. You have an amazing crew of followers. You even get more than two comments per post. What's your problem, girl?"
One word: envy. I'm green with it. I'm envious of THE BAILEY I created in my mind. I'm envious of her, because I'm not like her. I'm not half as wonderful as she is. I can't write like her. I can't gather interest like she can. I just don't measure up to her.
THE BAILEY I wanted to be has 1,527 followers. Radio talk shows call her up and interview her on deep, theological problems. Anonymous commenters ask her advice. People the world over know that BAILEY is the spokesperson of Christian young womanhood. And the Christian youth of America unanimously votes her Best Blogger of the Century.
Never mind that Blogger hasn't been around for a century.
They say to shoot for the moon - if you fall short, you'll still land in the stars. I aim way higher than that - more like out-of-this-world. My goals - no, my expectations - loom high and unattainable over my head. If I miss the mark, even by a thumbnail, I plunge myself into deepest gloom. No matter how ridiculous, how improbable, how far-fetched and egotistic it sounds, I count on myself ending up greater than I really am. I'm a slave to my passions. So when I fall - when I scream over a blogpost that takes three hours to write or pull out hair over submitting an article to LAF - I land crashing down to earth. It hurts to fall several billions of miles. It hurts to blow one's ego.
It really hurts. And as I lay low and frustrated, I realized how extremely riddled with delusion my thinking was. Only I would expect to be known the world over her fifth day of blogging. How absurd is that? Pretty absurd - indeed, you don't get much more absurd than that. Who was I? Nobody. Nothing. Uneloquent, unwitty, unpretty - and as the adjectives marched on in long strings and tramped down bunny trails of my personality that had nothing to do with blogging, I lost all joy completely.
When I had reached the conclusion of my inadequateness and quit railing enough to sit quietly in a ball and pout, the Lord touched my soul. He knew, long before I did, that I was plotting in my own strength - that I had enslaved myself to my impossible expectations - that before long, I would crawl back dejected and utterly unable to account for it. And when He softened my poutiness and made me look to His Word, I realized that He never expected me to be great. He never called me to achieve goddesshood. He never called me because of my talents, in my first place. He called me in order to justify and sanctify me - for His glory. He called me because He would work through me - for His glory. He called me because He knew that's where my happiness would best lie - in His glory. While chastening me to get off my high horse and accept my limits, He was gentle and brought out the comfort in resting in His glory alone - the only glory that does not puff up or blind or overachieve.
Who am I? Just a servant of Christ, reminded once again to transfer all delusions of grandeur to the One in whom exists all glory, honor and power. There's nothing higher than that.