Tip of My Iceberg

There are times when I channel my inner child. Much to my detriment.

It’s fun. And sometimes fun trumps logic.

We just took an international flight for business purposes, and it was one of those where you travel all night and arrive first thing in the morning, ready to go. Boots on the ground, brain engaged.

My boots landed, but there was no brain engagement to speak of.

I was challenged to even find it. The area between the ears felt downright vacant.

All of which was my own doing.

John was able to snooze off and on. When I let him. When I wasn’t disturbing him to move so I could use the restroom. (He insists on sitting on the aisle. Something about leg space. When you’re built a bit like a penguin, that’s not a concern.)

There was this wonderful screen in front of my seat that let me play movies at my leisure.

My achilles heel.

We don’t go to movies much. Finding the time, seeing something we both like, justifying the expense if we can’t guarantee a winner. All of those work against us in the date-night-at-the-movie mode.

So, when the opportunity presented itself to see several flicks I hadn’t seen–and wanted to–I took it.

Pretty much that meant seven straight hours of tube time.

Not productive, but highly entertaining.

When we deplaned at 9 in the morning, I’d been up for close to 24 hours straight. Then stayed awake the rest of the day to get into the “zone.”

To say I was a bit grumpy would have been a gross understatement. jTo make matters even more obvious, I refused to keep my comments about my current condition to myself.

I shared my crabbiness freely and with great abandon. Not just with John. I shared with the cab driver, the people we were meeting and anyone who came close enough to hear my tirade.

I’m such a delight when I’m tired.

The rotten thing was I knew I would be less than companionable when I chose to watch movies all night.

I didn’t care that I’d be miserable company. I wanted to watch what I wanted to see.

This reflects more of my life than I want to admit. I want to make right choices, but too often my desires look way more pleasurable and exciting than doing the right thing.

Which is why I often opt for fun.

God reminds me that this is exactly the challenge all of us face. It’s the It’s the bane of humanity’s existence.

“I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do…. For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do–this I keep on doing.”   Romans 7:15, 19

This is the part of my moral character that separates me from God. That nature of mine that insists on its own way.

It’s not me that will make myself right before God. It’s me trusting Jesus to have already done that for me.

I will always be tempted to make the bad choices.

Bad is easy.

Next time I may think first and rely on God to give me strength to make a better choice.

Like hitting the hay instead of the “play” button.

First photo courtesy of cs.cornell.edu.

Second photo courtesy of dailymail.co.uk.