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.