Challenged.
After a uncharacteristic, shocking, and completely unexpected reaction to events on the road, someone I love very much said, "If I have to be disciplined, struggle against myself every day and against every obstacle, to train, to eat so strictly, to pray, to meditate... what is the point?! Why can't I just be like everyone else - normal?!"
The woman in me wanted to hug all that frustration and weariness away.
The lioness in me wanted to roar at him and swat him with my claws in an attempt to wake him up to the strength and greatness he carries inside.
The broken and tired soul in me SO identified.
I've wanted to scream and rage at the unfairness of life.
To raise my finger at the obligations and personal accountability demanded of adulthood and maturity.
Our culture has come to idealize hedonism and nihilism.
"Life is meaningless, has no purpose, and there is no need for morality or faith..."
"I will indulge myself, live in pursuit of pleasure, my own pleasure, and damn any archaic societal mores that get in my way..."
Responsibility.
Morality.
Accountability.
Maturity.
Wisdom.
Perseverance.
Long-suffering.
Patience.
Self-control.
Courage.
The above words are anathema to many in our consumerism culture, who cry out
"I want it NOW!"
"I deserve it NOW!"
"Life should be pleasurable - always."
"Life should be easy - always."
"Don't get in the way of what I want!"
"I WILL say what I want."
" I WILL do what I want, when I want, and how I want, and without consequence."
"I will do whatever it takes to get whatever I want."
"But what about me?!!"
"Give me, give me, give me... I need, I want, I, I, I, I..."
Like an infant.
Where is meaning?
Where is character?
Where is depth?
It is not given.
It is forged.
The easy road is wide and leads where? Death, destruction, and decay. Darkness, the void - empty and without value. The end is suffering.
The difficult road is narrow, full of suffering, and few tread it, yet it leads to what? Real peace, joy, strength, fulfillment, meaning, and much, much more. The end is life!
It's a choice.
A painful, tedious, unapplauded choice.
Armchair babies sucking at the sugared teat of slothfulness and self-indulgence look on with envy at those suffering for purpose and striving in fortitude, desiring what they have, but refusing to work for it.
Count the cost.
And remember...
Not choosing is a choice.
