Glory: a misunderstood, sanitized super-christian word that frankly I’m never quite sure of. Supposedly, God is supposed to get it, lots of it. Usually, I want it….for myself conciously and subconsciously. His is inconspicuous, unassuming. Mine…..the louder the better, the more for me the merrier I get.
What glory-boat am I piloting? Is it’s foghorn bellowing echoes of "here I am!" to the shoreline, its bow crushing the other glory-boats? Mine’s like a cruise ship, huge, luxurious, and projecting an image of strength and streaming speed! What’s that in the distance? Looks like driftwood. No need to steer clear….my glory-boat will flatten it! Wow…that was easy and felt so natural. I didn’t even feel the impact. Come to find out later, it was Christ rowing his makeshift glory-raft of obscurity, rejection, and humiliation.
I have to tell ya, I expected more from Him.