Fame and fortune has been attracted to me since I was a wee lad, or maybe it is the other way around. I learned at a very young age that doing the unimaginable, (or doing something completely stupid) would get myself noticed. It started off small: dares and then those pesky “double-dog dares”, and progressing to wearing suggestive writing on my T-shirts, and now I’ve found a new outlet; the shock value of the infamous Facebook statuses. I have given my parents and my older brother Kyle (who is known as a worrier) many gray hairs with the things I put up in the social network world. I won’t try to deceive you. EVERYTHING I do is to get noticed. I want you to talk about me.
There’s a certain rush that one feels when they are the center of attention. Some people do drugs, some skydive, while I’m “Donkey” off the Disney movie SHREK, yelling, “Pick me! Pick me!” I’ve went to great lengths to be the center of attention: from making an absolute fool of myself to busting out windows and exchanging hair cream for sour mayonnaise. Some of you self-proclaimed psychologists would diagnose me as “inferior, and weak, needing other’s approval to feel a sense of belonging”. I disagree. I just want you to laugh and enjoy life.
Several months ago I heard a rumor of a magical cheeseburger joint that boasted a 22oz. cow patty. The people would describe this burger to me with excitement; proclaiming that IF in fact one ate the entire thing… they would receive instant fame. (Which translates into a 3×5 picture on the wall). I knew I was ready for the challenge. It sounded all so easy. I mean, I love to eat and if eating got people to notice me, then bring it on! I anxiously awaited the day when I would try to tackle the one they called, “Big Ugly”.
I absolutely despise eating alone, nothing screams PATHETIC more than eating in a booth all by yourself. How do I know, you ask? Because I do it routinely. But I knew that I did not want to accomplish this task without the recognition and applause of my fellow admirers. Opportunities came and went, until finally the day came. I was at work and my cousin texted me, “Bubs Burgers. Tonight. The whole family will be there. You should try the Big Ugly”. I could feel as if God had just directed a light down from the heavens. This was my chance!
I received my cheeseburger, topped with lettuce, ketchup, and tomato. I went to town, devouring that thing in approx 25 minutes (with a little bathroom break). It was a breeze… up until those last five bites. Needless to say I felt as if I was going to be sick! I did not eat again until Saturday evening.
As I laid on my couch and groaned, praying to either vomit, burp, or #2, I asked myself, “What have I done?” I had just forced myself to eat a one pound burger in return for a 3×5 photo. I’m an absolute idiot! I felt like absolute “shaef!” for three days for a small window of publicity….
I get a kick out of my friends who constantly talk of FB on how the need a vacation. Really dude? Really girl? You work a part-time job and you just hang out and watch movies all the time. Your life is a vacation! I think the problem with the American job situtation isn’t that there’s a lack of openings, but that there are a lack of workaholics. God worked for 6 full days straight before He got a day off. We typically get 2-3 a week and we still complain. Fine. I’ll say it. I think most of my friends are bums.
This is a problem with myself as well as the majority of the people I know. We find that our back is up against the wall in our battle with self-indulgence, and the problem is that we win. Everytime. “More, more, more. I want it all.” The Bible talks about how the “pleasures of sin last only for a season”. A season, really? A season is typically 16 weeks in length, and I don’t know any “pleasure” that lasts for the that long. This may be the only time in my life where I differ with the Bible.
We “gluttonize” ourselves with our own desires, only to be left feeling bloated and gassy. I know anytime I turn my back on my principles, I don’t feel better on the morning after. The nagging conscience, dejection, and constant worrying that someone will call my bluff is enough to give me a headache. The remedy isn’t some ibuprofen or Tylenol. Jesus said it best, simply, “deny yourself and follow me”.
This past week, my friends @Royal Tailor, released their debut album “Black and White” (insert selling point here). My favorite song by far is “Death of Me”, which talks about the transformation that one finds in a life centered around Christ. Getting rid of the old man, and the birth of someone new, who’s life is centered around serving our fellow humanity. THIS is in fact the remedy for my battle with self-indulgence. Serving my fellow man.
So from my extensive medical knowledge, if you want to quit feeling: bloated, gassy, sick to your stomach, fearful of the unknown, undecided of God’s direction, and overwhelmed. Then I invite you to search out a life with Jesus Christ where you put your own desires aside, and seek to help the ones who really need it.