I'm not the most attractive man in the world. The reason I started with that statement is this: I got ogled today by two middle-aged women in a Geo Metro. That's right, I said ogled. I also said Geo Metro, but that's really not as important as the ogled bit.
How it went down: Imagine me (a pseudo-artsy picture of me is shown to the right) wearing jeans, a plain gray t-shirt (that's probably a bit too small), and a navy blue fedora. I was walking down one of the larger streets in town, pretty nearly pacing the heavy afternoon traffic. An unintelligible statement was yelled at me from the now infamous Geo. I know the yell was directed at me for two reasons: 1. I was the only one on that stretch of sidewalk at that time. 2. When I looked in the direction of the yell, I saw the aforementioned women looking at me with smiles that were less than wholesome.
I ignored them and walked to the corner, thankful that the red light stopped them a few car lengths behind me. The red glowing hand in the crosswalk sign said I should stay on my side of the road, but there was no cross traffic. I jogged across. As I was performing my illegal jaywalk, the women turned left. The passenger had the courtesy to lean out her window and yell, "Thanks for the show." At which point I felt dirty.
Here's where the weird metaphor comes in: I wonder how often I've been guilty of doing to God what those women did to me. What they did is treat me like an object, just another thing to gawk at. Sometimes, that's all God is to me. Another object to ogle. You might be thinking, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. You can't ogle God."
I think you can. I think that every time people say that they love God, but then can't tell you anything about Him, they're really proclaiming their love for a pet vision they have. Their God is nothing more than a hot young thing walking down the side of the road. All flash, no substance, and they like it that way.
The women who yelled at me didn't want to get to know me. They didn't care. What they wanted was an object to look at. So they made me smaller in their minds. They took away that which makes me human, which makes me me. And when we sideline God, when we neglect all those things about Him we don't like (and there will be things you don't like about Him when you start getting to know Him), we remove from Him His Divinity. We make the Almighty into a tin god.
So the moral of the story is this: You can't get to know God by catching a glimpse of Him as you drive by. You have to put the effort into getting to know Him. And you have to deal with all that complicated stuff that's involved with any relationship, let alone a relationship with the Lord of Heaven and Earth.
The second moral of the story is this: Avoid middle-aged women in Geo Metros. I'm sure there are nice ones out there, but thus far my experience has not been positive. You've been warned.
How it went down: Imagine me (a pseudo-artsy picture of me is shown to the right) wearing jeans, a plain gray t-shirt (that's probably a bit too small), and a navy blue fedora. I was walking down one of the larger streets in town, pretty nearly pacing the heavy afternoon traffic. An unintelligible statement was yelled at me from the now infamous Geo. I know the yell was directed at me for two reasons: 1. I was the only one on that stretch of sidewalk at that time. 2. When I looked in the direction of the yell, I saw the aforementioned women looking at me with smiles that were less than wholesome.
I ignored them and walked to the corner, thankful that the red light stopped them a few car lengths behind me. The red glowing hand in the crosswalk sign said I should stay on my side of the road, but there was no cross traffic. I jogged across. As I was performing my illegal jaywalk, the women turned left. The passenger had the courtesy to lean out her window and yell, "Thanks for the show." At which point I felt dirty.
Here's where the weird metaphor comes in: I wonder how often I've been guilty of doing to God what those women did to me. What they did is treat me like an object, just another thing to gawk at. Sometimes, that's all God is to me. Another object to ogle. You might be thinking, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. You can't ogle God."
I think you can. I think that every time people say that they love God, but then can't tell you anything about Him, they're really proclaiming their love for a pet vision they have. Their God is nothing more than a hot young thing walking down the side of the road. All flash, no substance, and they like it that way.
The women who yelled at me didn't want to get to know me. They didn't care. What they wanted was an object to look at. So they made me smaller in their minds. They took away that which makes me human, which makes me me. And when we sideline God, when we neglect all those things about Him we don't like (and there will be things you don't like about Him when you start getting to know Him), we remove from Him His Divinity. We make the Almighty into a tin god.
So the moral of the story is this: You can't get to know God by catching a glimpse of Him as you drive by. You have to put the effort into getting to know Him. And you have to deal with all that complicated stuff that's involved with any relationship, let alone a relationship with the Lord of Heaven and Earth.
The second moral of the story is this: Avoid middle-aged women in Geo Metros. I'm sure there are nice ones out there, but thus far my experience has not been positive. You've been warned.
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