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| It may be worth pointing out at this point that I have never watched an episode of Macgyver. However, this is how my version would look. |
Those who know me well may scoff at the next sentence. I enjoy being prepared. It may not seem like I do because of how seldom I am prepared, perhaps that's because as much as I enjoy being prepared, I also enjoy being unprepared and just Macgyvering it up when the challenge arises. There's an exhilarating feeling surrounding preparation though that excites me, it's the first step of an epic journey, the opening titles of a movie, the creak of a fresh binding in a new book; no matter their form, new beginnings are exciting.
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| I've not actually seen the miniseries in it's entirety. |
No one has taught me the ecstasy of new beginnings better than Hollywood, it's nearly a universal fact that the first movie of a saga is the best and if there was a book before the movie, the book was undeniably better. We as an audience love origin stories because they're full of potential and promise of an exciting future, they're flashy and show the process of an idea materializing and becoming reality. Movies are especially effective to portray this exhilaration because all of the hard work in between idea conception and physical execution can be circumvented and squeezed into a three minute sequence donned: "The training montage". This is why I enjoy preparation, in that moment of filling the backpack before the journey, you're in the training montage, your imagination runs wild with the potential use of things. When you pack the rope and the exciting idea of scaling a cliff or dangling from a tree runs through your mind. And then you come to the climax, the second most enjoyable part of a journey; standing on the precipice of the first step with your leg extended toward an audacious goal. When the second step lands though, and the puddle splashes inside your sock, you realize that your expectations do not match reality. The cliff is steep and the tree is tall, your legs are tired and your hands have cramped. It is usually my response to go back inside and unpack while laughing at myself for the absurdity of what just occurred. The cycle of beginnings will restart and I will look for another emotional rush.
This mentality is one of the most socially dangerous themes today. The other day I was listening to a young lady explain her perfect wedding, along with her perfect proposal. I began to worry about this myself, were I to ever marry. I believe I could be the perfect boyfriend: selfless, exciting, thoughtful and caring. It would be entirely too easy for me for me to surprise a young lady and sweep her off her feet in a relationship. Yes,
being a boyfriend would be easy, being a husband would be nearly impossible without divine intervention. When all my flaws and trials are brought to light never to be hidden again and the shame of my own sin is before me and I realize that my spouse has no more blinders but sees me for who I am; a liar, an idolater, prideful, selfish and irresponsible. What will my response be then? This moment of truth comes to all of us in different forms throughout our life and we must choose whether to be faithful to complete the original journey laid out for us, or attempt to begin a new journey just to feel the excitement again. The temptation of adultery is at every corner for a married man. Instead of persevere, perhaps this is why married men and women flirt, trying to serve both their spouse and their selfish emotions. Sounds like Matthew 6:24 to me.
I do the same thing with my relationship with God, flirting with sin. The idea of Jesus is fun for the first twenty minutes when the story seems epic and that I am part of something bigger than myself, but when the temptations set in, when the journey truly gets rough, sin knocks at my door and I all too often answer.
This is the part of the post where I tell you the secret to life-long commitment that your brain wants but your flesh never cooperates to allow you to have. The truth is I don't know. I can't conquer any of the sin in my life, no matter how hard I try, as I look back, the sins that I've actually been able to rid from my life came without large amounts of effort. In fact, they took nearly no effort at all from me physically. It was a one step process for each advance in my faith that I've ever experienced.
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| I was told I looked like Elijah Wood about four days ago, so this seemed appropriate. |
Seriously, that's as far as I got. I gave up and realized that I could not persevere any longer. I hit rock-bottom and gave up all my trying, gave up all of my efforts and learned to trust in Jesus, learned that he would carry me through. This seems like it would be an obvious and essential truth to Christianity as a whole. A revelation that I would turn back to time and time again throughout my faith walk, this isn't true though; it doesn't matter how many times I must go through this process, I must learn it all over again. It seems futile and discouraging to have to relearn this painful lesson, it's a slow process and every time I look back at it, I feel as though I've wasted so much time learning what I already knew. Perhaps that is God's will though, that I would continue to relearn what I need to so that God can continue to keep my pliable to mold me into his original vision of creation.
It's difficult to say it, but I need to be carried. I need to not journey alone.
Isn't this the lure of Satan always? That we should make the journey alone, being self-righteous, to have our own rags-to-riches story. So that at the end of the day, we can say we did it all by ourselves. If we've done it all by ourselves though, what did we really earn? All eternal riches exist only in the kingdom of God. If I can remove sin all by myself, then I didn't really ever do it, now did I?
Food for thought.
Until next time my friends,
Joel Gibson.
