Iíve Gotta be Me!

For those devastating times when you feel like an idiot

By Grantley Morris


Bunglers Anonymous

Heavenís honor roll reads like a Whoís Who of bungling. And I love it!

I must have slammed into so many closed doors in my spiritual job search that my whole head is a dead end. Of my legendary brain malfunctions, youíll squeeze just one example from me. Divulge more, and Iíd be sentenced to wearing a paper bag over my head for the rest of my natural life Ė and thatís a prospect I donít relish, no matter how much you think it improves my looks.

I was about to go home when a manager said he couldnít start his car. Some idiot had left the headlights on. Suddenly my nerves thought Iíd caught malaria. That morning I had tested the lights of our entire vehicle fleet. ĎThatís strange,í added another manager, ĎI canít start my car either Ė batteryís dead.í (It was definitely malaria, maybe yellow fever as well.) Up walked another manager Ė and was that another one behind him?

Iíve got a mechanical mind; itís just that the gears have jammed.

When I have mistake and onions itís neither rare nor well done. And just when Iíve had my fill Iím forced to eat my words. And thatís only the entrée. Somehow I always end up in the soup and have to pay for it. Humble pie follows with a generous serve of raspberries and I scream.

I make more slips than a lingerie company. As my mind lurches from one goof-up to the next, I fill with despair. Then I limp to the Bible and find comfort. I bump into Isaac, who blessed the wrong twin (Genesis 27:21-35); and Jacob, the scheming mummyís boy, who had to marry his sister-in-law to patch up his first mistake (Genesis 29:20-28). I hear Job clawing for words to recount the tragedy that marred his childhood Ė he was born alive (Job 3:1-19). I see Saul hiding amongst the baggage (1 Samuel 10:22); David squabbling with his brothers (1 Samuel 17:28-29); Jonah bewailing the death of a weed (Jonah 4:7-9); Thomas poking holes in Jesusí side (John 20:24-25). I donít know that they had pogo sticks back then, but if they did, they played under the table for too long. Hard-boiled? These egg-heads were always in hot water. Whenever they had a brainwave heaven ducked for cover. Of course, Solomon had a good head on his shoulders Ė a cute brunette one night, a redhead the next. I think he ended up counting his wives and kissing his money.

Jesus hand-picked the quiet, intelligent type. When they were quiet, they were intelligent. They spent the rest of their time turning howlers into an art form. Their business cards must have read Bloopers for Every Occasion. There were the sons of blunder, James and John, armed with tongues programmed to shoot first and ask questions at the murder trial. Those thunder-heads even thought the Prince of Peace was into star wars (Luke 9:54). Then there was Peter, whose mouth went into spasms whenever his brain died. He always spoke with his mouth full, and still found room for the other foot. (Any normal sized mouth would have had corns.) You were sure to find this crying shame somewhere between boo-boo and boo-hoo. And while our silver tongued, lead brained hero was doing what came naturally, everyone else was scrambling to prove they had the IQ of a doughnut hole. Who could forget that ridiculous prayer-meeting when the maid left Peter locked out in the cold, the pray-ers thought the maid had gone around the twist for being so stupid as to think their prayers had been answered, and they finally made the brilliant deduction that the guy, who looks and sounds like Peter bashing on the door, must be Peterís angel (Acts 12:12-16)? They believed in keeping their brains in Ďas newí condition. Remember the dozer with the window seat who fell three floors to sleep during Paulís sermon (Acts 20:9)? They make that drop-out look like a genius. Paul wasnít kidding when he said that by normal standards few of the Corinthian Christians were wise (1 Corinthians 2:26-27). If they were anything like the rest, you could pool their intellects and not have enough to power a headache.

I could put my feet up with folks like that. And what fires me is that these scatter-brains are Godís sort of people Ė the type through whom he changes the world.

Related Pages

Christian Encouragement: Moral Failure is Not the End

When Mothers Feel Guilt

Handling Rejection

The Shame of it All When oneís own stupidity or inadequacy cuts like a knife

Normal? (Humorous)

Afraid? Help and Inspiration When Gripped by Fear

Book An entire book, free to internet users, from which this webpage is an extract

Not to be sold. © Copyright, 1985-96, Grantley Morris. Not to be copied in whole or in part without citing this entire paragraph. Many more compassionate, inspiring, sometimes hilarious writings by Grantley Morris available free at the following internet site www.net-burst.net Freely you have received, freely give.


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