So what if it’s not attainable? It’s all in the trying. Little ol’ ant and rubber tree plant, that kind of thing.
Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
Those first three words bounced around in my head like a superball for a long time. Entirely? Sure, fine, yes, but upon further review, some of my defects of character are so deeply cemented in my psyche that I couldn’t envision them ever being completely removed.
I kept feeling like I needed to do some stretching, some light calisthenics, clear my mind, shake it all off under a warm sunbeam, achieve total emptiness. Because anything still rattling around in there one-hundred percent had to be a defect. My wiring just worked that way. Even the good stuff seemed to have conditions. Sure, there’s love now, but… what if… surely over time… this can’t… etc. In order for goodness to remain in my life, I demanded guarantees, promises written down and notarized. And since that’s not how life works, neither did I.
When my defects of character were poured out onto the kitchen table and shifted through, I began to worry that there was nothing more to me; that I was a sum of my defects. Take those away, and who’s left? Nobody I’d recognize.
It was obvious to see where removing some of my more damaging defects of character would be beneficial, but to remove them all would leave me vulnerable, open to attack, my greatest fears revealed. Or worse, I’d still be miserable without any outlets, a walking doormat that didn’t mind the constant emasculations. Is this what it was going to take? Let me at least keep my sword and shield.
What I was doing was what I always did: applying all-or-nothing filters to a situation that didn’t require one.