Thursday, October 25, 2007

Volkswagen At Heart

"Ashley" is a girl with many talents. She's a sharp public speaker, avid musician and could probably have a future in the theater. However, where Ashley has experienced great success academically, she has also had amazingly little success in the area of making friends. You'd think that a girl with her talents would have many opportunities to develop relationships; but there is one characteristic that Ashley lacks: she cannot speak of anyone but herself. She can tell you about her latest musical triumph, but if she asks how you are doing, don't expect your response to be heard. To be honest, Ashley probably doesn't realize how cocky others perceive her to be. I don't profess to know her heart; but I do know from personal experience that pride can be so pervasive, we may not notice how it dominates our lives.

A man with a bulldog’s jowl and a trademark cigar once said, “We are all worms. But I believe that I am a glow-worm.” I was always frustrated with Winston Churchill for saying those words. Ironically, both cigar and jowl have turned to dust. The comment was pompous when first spoken and now is only sadly mocking of that once-influential now-dead man. However, the sentiment remains close by. I wonder how many of us have felt the same way—that we are somehow less wormy, less sinful, with more potential than the rest of the world.

My mom tells the story of a man she knew in school. He was the proud owner of a shiny Ferrari...or at least appeared to be. Cruising around in his bank-statement-on-wheels, no one would have guessed that his car was actually a kit. In other words, the car was assembled using the body of a Ferrari but the engine and guts of a much cheaper vehicle. While maintaining the impression of luxury, in essentials his car was just like any other “loser cruiser” on the roadway. He didn’t want to be a worm. He wanted to be a glow-worm.

For a greatly personal example: I clean, scrub, study, cook, drive, babysit, repeat. And with glamorous work like this, I’m unhappy. It may be satisfying for other people and many other young women my age, but as for me, I want better. I'm a glow-worm, got it? Why should I demean myself with the mundane? C.J. Mahaney defined “pride” as “when sinful human beings aspire to the status and position of God and refuse to acknowledge their dependence upon Him.” (p. 31, Humility) “Refusing to acknowledge” is not only over-estimating our value, but underestimating Him. Backpedaling on His plan for my life the moment it strikes me as a humbling experience is a part of the “glow-worm” mentality. It’s second guessing His sovereignty. It’s pride.

Instead of putzing around in Ferraris with Volkswagen engines, God created us to revel in His glory—not our own. He created us to be ambitious—for His name. He created us to excel in the mundane--for His name. Contentment starts here. Patience starts here. Purity can even be related to this, for when I’m content in God, purity is a lot easier to grasp.

The humble circumstances we are called to embrace will probably feel more wormy than scintillating. "But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere. For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing, to one a fragrance from death to death, to the other a fragrance from life to life. Who is sufficient for these things?" (2 Corinthians 2:14-16) Be it ever so humble, that's one glorious calling.

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